


Starsky vs Hutch

by Love_the_Blond_Guy



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 24,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Love_the_Blond_Guy/pseuds/Love_the_Blond_Guy
Summary: Not a rehash of the episode but an imagining of what might happen if one partner is set against the other. (Written in 2014)





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

He looked down at the crumpled figure by his feet ready to administer the final blow with the knife. He felt grudging admiration for this one. The cop had fought back with a skill and tenacity he had not expected and he was glad that he had had the element of surprise on his side.

He was good at his job and prided himself on completing his missions without any problems, but this one had nearly bested him. In fact he wouldn't like to lay odds on the outcome of a fair fight. This certainly hadn't been a fair fight he thought humourlessly. He'd jumped the guy and taken him unawares. He had been at a disadvantage from the get-go but had retaliated courageously.

He supposed it was the man's police training that had given him the edge over his other victims. How strange that he had suddenly lowered his guard and almost given up. That had given him the opportunity to drive home his advantage and he had beaten his latest victim into submission.

Just as he flicked open the blade of the knife, a door opened and light flooded into the alley revealing the two figures in the night.

"What's goin' on out here?" came a voice. "I'm gonna call the police! Get outa here!"

He looked down once more, annoyed that he had not accomplished his task. He didn't like loose ends and knew his boss would not tolerate a mistake like this, but he also knew he had to run now. Which he did...out the alley and into the car.

Huggy Bear watched the man flee then turned his attention to the body on the ground.

"Hey, you OK, man?" He bent down and touched the man's shoulder. "Let's get you up and take you inside, huh?" The man gave out a moan that made the hairs on the back of Huggy's neck stand on end.

"Hey, come on, fella. Up ya get. Ya can't stay here, dig?"

The man made no attempt to move so Huggy carefully rolled him onto his back. He gasped as he recognised the bruised and bloodied face in front of him.

"Oh my God! Hutch!" he breathed in horror, taking in his friend's injuries and laboured breathing.

He ran back to the open door and shouted inside. "Diane! Call an ambulance and the cops! Tell them 'officer down', that'll get 'em here quicker."

He ran back out to try to comfort his stricken buddy, wishing he could call on their friend, David Starsky, to help him.

But no one had seen Starsky for three months.


	2. Chapter 2

**3 months earlier**

Detective Sergeants Kenneth 'Hutch' Hutchinson and David Starsky were shooting pool at the bar owned by their friend Huggy Bear, unaware that they were under observation and had been for a couple of weeks.

Hutch was slightly the taller of the two with clean-cut, blond, poster-boy looks. His partner was darker and curly-haired with his own brand of good looks. Both were casually dressed in blue jeans and tee-shirt, and a leather jacket concealing their weapons...Starsky's black and Hutch's tan. Many a crook had been deceived by their casual appearance, bemoaning the fact that they 'didn't look like cops'. But they were possibly the best team of detectives in Bay City. The two detectives were like chalk and cheese in many aspects but they complemented each other perfectly.

Two pairs of eyes watched the detectives from a booth towards the rear of the bar. Bill Jackson and Jon Whitman had been specially chosen for being nondescript in appearance. Anyone who saw them would be hard pressed to give a description...average height, average build, short brown hair, hard to estimate their age. Could be any of a hundred, a thousand men in the city.

Neither man was very intelligent but they had not been hired for their brains. What they _had_ been hired for was their brawn. Both had spent most of their lives on the streets and this had given them skills that were invaluable to their boss, to whom they were absolutely loyal. They could follow simple instructions without question and so were perfect for that evening's task.

"Why him?" Jackson whispered. "He's a cop."

"We just follow orders and he's _the chosen one_."

"It's asking for trouble if you ask me,"

"No one's asking you," Whitman hissed. "Now let's go through it again."

They talked quietly, finalising their plans as Starsky sank the final ball.

"That's my choice for lunch tomorrow," Starsky said triumphantly. "And you're paying, buddy." He clapped Hutch on the back, smiling widely as they returned to their booth.

Hutch rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance as they slid into their seats side by side, shoulders and thighs touching.

"Looks like I'm gonna be hungry then," he grumbled good-naturedly.

Starsky slung an arm around Hutch's shoulders. "Nah, I'll take ya somewhere nice, Blintz. Somewhere that serves that rabbit food ya like so much." He scrubbed a hand through his friend's hair before reaching for his glass. Hutch ducked his head and smiled, almost shyly.

Both men drank their beers and Hutch signalled to Huggy for two more. A few minutes later the barmaid, Diane, sashayed over to their booth with a tray of drinks and placed two of the glasses on their table.

"Thanks, Diane. Put them on our tab, schweetheart," said Starsky, trying out his Humphrey Bogart impression.

Diane smiled and bobbed a small curtsey. "Your wish is my command," she said, before turning to glide to another booth, balancing the tray of drinks with practised ease.

Starsky leaned forward, looking around Hutch to watch her.

Hutch observed him, shaking his head and smiling indulgently. "Leave it, Starsk. She's outa your league. Hey, how about a rematch?"

Starsky looked across to the pool table which was now occupied by a large black man who was attempting to instruct his girlfriend in the finer arts of the game.

"I think I'll take a rain-check," he said. "In fact let's go home after this one...it's getting late."

"Scared I might beat you this time, buddy?"

"In your dreams, Hutchinson," Starsky shot back, then sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I'm just ready for an early night, even if you're not."

Hutch thought back over the previous week. Their case load had included two dead prostitutes in apparently unconnected incidents, busting a drug deal and the resultant chase and fight which had left both of them bruised and battered, a fruitless all-night stakeout (which would no doubt have to be repeated in the not too distant future) and the disappearance of a six-year old boy, which had thankfully had a happy ending after several hours searching. This on top of their regular, routine patrols trying to maintain some semblance of order in their patch.

"Yeah okay, Starsk. This week _has_ been tough."

Twenty minutes later they left the bar, waving farewell to Huggy. A light rain was falling as they walked briskly to Starsky's red and white Ford Gran Torino which was parked in its customary spot to the rear of the bar. They drove to Hutch's apartment in companionable silence.

"I'll pick you up at eight," Starsky said as Hutch got out and shut the door.

Hutch leaned in the window, brandishing a finger in Starsky's face. "And don't be late. I'm tired of Dobey yelling at us."

Starsky grinned and flicked him a wave as he drove off.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Meanwhile, Jackson and Whitman had left the bar a couple of minutes after Starsky and Hutch, and had headed straight for Starsky's house. Having followed both detectives before, they knew they could beat Starsky home and be waiting for him when he arrived. They parked up and concealed themselves in the bushes they had already scoped out, Jackson cursing the weather under his breath as the now heavy rainfall soaked through his thin shirt.

Soon they heard the growl of the Torino's engine as Starsky pulled up.

Starsky got out, stretched and yawned. He turned back to the car, keys in hand. Before he had a chance to react Jackson and Whitman were upon him and although he attempted to fight back, he was quickly overpowered and knocked out.

They bundled his limp body into the trunk of their car, then jumped in and drove away carefully to avoid arousing suspicion.

By the time Hutch realised his partner was missing he would already have been in the hands of his abductors for nine long hours.


	3. Chapter 3

Starsky regained consciousness to a world filled with pain and confusion. He was curled up on a freezing cold surface with his hands secured behind his back by what felt like handcuffs, "Probably my own," he thought grimly.

Struggling to open his eyes, he quickly realised that he was blindfolded. A cacophony of sound pounded at his eardrums.

Stretching gingerly he could feel bruising on his torso. His face felt stiff with what he suspected was dried blood and his head ached, although how much was due to a blow and how much to the noise he could not ascertain.

He tried to kick-start his memory but had no recollection of how he came to be in this predicament. His brain felt like cotton-candy.

The sound suddenly cut out leaving his ears ringing, so he was unprepared for the boot that kicked him in the kidneys. He grunted in pain then gasped as he was hauled to his feet.

Starsky stumbled, trying to stay upright as his captors dragged him across the room and dumped him in a chair.

"Wha's goin' on?" he mumbled. He received a blow to his jaw on the left, then another on the right, like two slaps with the face and then the back of a hand. Blood trickled down his chin from a split lip.

"Ya can't do this. I'm a cop. My partner'll be looking for ya." Again no answer, just another blow which rocked him and the chair on which he sat.

Starsky could feel himself beginning to grey out and fought to stay conscious. His head wobbled but an unseen hand grabbed a fistful of curls, yanking his head up.

"We know you're a cop, cop," a voice spat in his ear. "And your partner will never find you."

Starsky's heart raced but he refused to show fear. "He will find ya!" he yelled. "He's the best cop I know! And he'll track ya down and..."

Another blow silenced him as he passed out again, falling from the chair to the concrete floor.

And the noise resumed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch awoke with a start as the alarm sounded. He grunted with irritation, switched off the alarm and flung an arm across his eyes as he summoned up the energy to start the day. Finally he swung his legs over the side of the bed, dry-wiped his face and padded to the bathroom.

He felt a bit more human after his shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, he went to the kitchen to blend his morning power shake. Putting the empty glass in the sink, he glanced at the clock and went to get dressed, knowing Starsky would soon be there to pick him up for work.

Eight o'clock came and went with no sign of Starsky. Hutch huffed an annoyed sigh. Dobey was going to be mad...again. He picked up the phone and dialled Starsky's number, but no answer. A little prickle of apprehension trailed icy fingers down his spine.

He gave himself a mental shake. "C'mon, Hutchinson. He's running late, that's all." But some sixth sense told him that Starsky was not running late at all.

He tried phoning again but there was still no answer. So he rang headquarters.

"Dobey," a gruff voice resonated in the receiver.

"Uh, Cap, it's Hutch."

"Where are you? Get in here now, you two, and straight in my office!"

"Captain, I'm worried about Starsky." A heavy sigh greeted this. "He should have picked me up at eight but didn't show. I've phoned him twice but there's no answer."

Hutch paused and took a deep breath before continuing, his words dropping into the silence like stones into a pool. "Cap, I've got a bad feeling about this. I'm on my way over there now."

Dobey sighed again but had the utmost respect for 'feelings' between partners, especially these two. "You want me to send a black-and-white?" he asked.

Hutch could imagine Starsky's embarrassment and irritation if a patrol car turned up at his house when it wasn't needed. "Not yet. Let me go have a look and I'll call you."

"Okay, Hutch. But make it fast."

"You got it."

Hutch shrugged into his jacket, grabbed his keys and ran for the door, grateful for an understanding captain.

Hutch jogged to his car, relieved when it started first time. He slapped the mars light on the roof and drove to Starsky's, siren blaring.

He leapt out of his car and raced past the Torino to the front door. He banged on the door with his fist.

"Starsky!"

No answer.

"C'mon, Starsky! We're late again!"

Still no answer.

A slight tremor made Hutch fumble with his key in the lock. Starsky's apartment was silent and Hutch could tell immediately that Starsky was not there.

His heart leapt to his throat as he stood in the centre of the room and revolved slowly, looking to see if anything was out of place. He swallowed convulsively and ran back to his car to request a patch through to Captain Dobey.

In no time at all a black-and-white was on site, closely followed by Captain Dobey and a forensics team. Hutch did not think that Starsky had been in his house but the team were thoroughly dusting for prints anyway.

Hutch prowled outside and leaned against his car, staring at the Torino. Captain Dobey followed him.

"Cap, I'm almost certain he didn't go in last night. I think someone jumped him when he got out of his car."

Captain Dobey looked at his detective, seeing the conviction in his face. He lumbered off to remind forensics to check the Torino, even though he knew they would do so after finishing in the house.

Hutch pushed away from his car and stalked around the Torino, touching nothing, eyes scanning the ground for any clue that might tell him what had become of his partner. But the Torino stood silently and there was nothing obvious to be seen with the naked eye...Jackson and Whitman had done their job well.

Hutch ran trembling fingers through his hair and took a calming breath as he watched his captain return. "There's nothing I can do here, Captain. I'm going to see Huggy."

Dobey rested a meaty hand on Hutch's shoulder. "Okay, Hutch. But then I want you back at headquarters. I'm going to pull the files on all your recent cases and we'll go through them together."

Hutch nodded. "Thanks, Cap'n."

He strode to his car and drove swiftly to Huggy's. He had to bang on the door for several minutes before an angry voice shouted down.

"This better be good or you'll be dealing with a grizzly!"

Hutch listened to the sounds of the door being unlocked, then slid inside when it opened. His eyes boggled as he took in Huggy's pyjamas and robe which were a blinding combination of pink and yellow.

Huggy glared at him and Hutch held up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, Hug. You know I wouldn't wake you if it wasn't important."

Huggy shuffled behind the bar yawning, and poured two glasses of juice, pushing one towards Hutch.

"Where's your other half?" he asked.

Hutch took a sip of his juice. "That's why I'm here, Hug. He's missing. Have you heard anything?"

"Hutch, if I knew anything you'd be the first to know. Let me get dressed and I'll put out some feelers."

"Make it fast, Hug. He's been gone all night."

"Hey, man. You have to ask?"

Hutch raised his hands again looking contrite. "Sorry, Hug. It's just...you know?"

Huggy nodded sympathetically. "Yeah. I know."

Hutch drained his glass and placed it on the bar, a slight rattle betraying the tremor in his hand.

Huggy briefly patted Hutch's arm. "Hey, amigo. We'll find him."

Hutch looked into his friend's sympathetic, brown eyes and gave a small nod. "I'll be at headquarters," he said, heading out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Starsky's existence was reduced to periods of unconsciousness interspersed with episodes of pain, thirst, hunger, blindness and noise. He had totally lost track of time and could have been there for hours, days or even weeks.

As a former soldier he knew what they were trying to do to him but he had no idea why. He tried to use the techniques he had been taught before his deployment to Vietnam to protect himself. But it was so difficult. They seemed to know the second he awoke and the beatings resumed before he had chance to muster his defences. Only as darkness beckoned was he able to take his mind to another place and shut out the pain.

He knew he was in a bad way but could find no way to get through to his captors. They never spoke, just went about their 'work' in an unnerving silence.

Starsky had given up shouting abuse and obscenities as it was getting him nowhere. Instead he conserved his dwindling energy supplies to ride out the blows he couldn't see as best he could.

Regaining consciousness for the umpteenth time Starsky slowly realised that something had changed. He now lay on a mattress, uncomfortably restrained by both hands and feet to each corner of an iron bedstead. He felt as though he were stretched on a mediaeval torture device and his spine and ribs protested loudly at this mistreatment.

He found that he could only take shallow breaths. And his head pounded as though his tormentors were now inside his skull, hammering on his brain.

How long had he been here, alone? Where were his captors? He tried to shout out but his voice rasped in his throat, triggering a coughing fit that left him breathless and with tears streaming from his eyes.

He was thankful that he was not naked but he still felt incredibly vulnerable. He struggled against the restraints, testing their strength, but succeeded only in chafing the skin of his wrists and ankles.

The blindfold had been removed and that scared him more than anything. If his captors didn't mind whether he saw them or not, it meant they had no intention of ever letting him go.

His head lolled to one side.

As he lost consciousness again he realised that the terrible noise had stopped.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

In a room upstairs, Jackson and Whitman stood before their employer.

"He's a tough nut to crack," said Jackson.

"We're not trying to crack him. We're moulding him to do a job for us."

The woman behind the desk was petite and wore her blonde hair in a chic bob. She was wearing a severe black trouser-suit with a bright red blouse and looked as though a puff of wind would blow her away. Yet she obviously wielded some kind of power over the two men in front of her.

"I don't think it's gonna work," Jackson continued.

"I don't pay you to think," Charlotte snapped. "I pay you to do a job. If you're not up to it I'll find someone who is."

Jackson glanced at his colleague who was staring straight ahead, like a student called into the headmaster's office to explain some misdemeanour for which he was hoping not to be blamed.

"I'm just saying why this one?" he persisted.

Charlotte's eyes narrowed, then she replied. "Because he has the qualities I need. He was a soldier. He's had special training."

Jackson felt a little braver now that the woman had entered into dialogue with him. "Yeah but there are plenty more ex-soldiers we could use. This guy's a cop...that's dangerous."

"But that gives him even more of the skills I require. His military training combined with his previous life made him a skilful fighter. And now those talents have been enhanced by his police training. He is perfect."

Jackson just had to push it a little more. "Why not just choose a street-fighter? Surely he'd be more suited to your needs? He'd be ready-made instead of all this performance."

"Enough! I have chosen this one. And I do not have to explain my reasons to you."

Whitman shuffled imperceptibly and jogged Jackson's arm. He took the hint and bit back the remark he was about to make.

The woman smiled although it did not reach her eyes. "Now we have settled that, let's move on with the next stage of our plan."

Both men echoed her smile as they readied themselves to return to the basement.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch's first thought was that Simon Marcus's followers had somehow gotten hold of Starsky again. He was all set to go to San Quentin to interview the cultist but Captain Dobey managed to dissuade him.

"Hutch, calm down. You're not thinking straight. Marcus has not made any threats and his followers are all in jail or back with their families. If he was behind this he would be making grandiose statements and talking in riddles. I'm sure it's not him. Now sit down and let's go through some of these files."

Hutch stopped pacing and smiled ruefully at his superior. "Sorry, Captain."

He sank into a chair, scrubbed his face and grabbed the top folder off the pile.

Several hours and countless cups of coffee later, Hutch and Dobey had made inroads into the large stack of files. Copious notes had been made and uniformed officers had been dispatched to check on the few likely suspects they had unearthed.

Dobey put down the phone and turned to Hutch who was slumped in his chair, elbow on the desk and head resting on his hand. Hutch opened red-rimmed eyes as Dobey spoke.

"Time to go home, son," he said kindly. "Edith insists you come home with me...she wants to make sure you're eating."

Hutch gave a small smile, knowing it was useless to argue and also that he could do no more that night.

Both men were surprised to find that it had gone dark while they had been working. In fact the whole day had gone by unnoticed. They walked wearily to the parking lot, got into their cars and Hutch followed Dobey to his house.

The captain's wife kissed Dobey then took Hutch's hands and drew him inside. For a couple of hours Hutch allowed himself to be cared for by the Dobey family, enjoying the comfort while feeling guilty that his partner almost certainly was not deriving any pleasure from his present predicament.


	5. Chapter 5

Starsky awoke to a gentle hand stroking his face and hair. "Hutch?" he whispered, more in hope than expectation.

"No, David. It's me, Charlotte."

Starsky's face screwed up in puzzlement. "Charlotte?" he thought. "I don't know no Charlotte."

He forced his eyes open and was rewarded by the sight of a beautiful blonde gazing at him with soft, brown eyes.

"David?" she crooned in his ear, as she cupped his face with her hand and rubbed her thumb soothingly over a cut on his cheekbone. "David? Can you hear me?"

Starsky gave a short nod which sent a tsunami of pain rippling through his whole body. A small voice inside his head said "Don't trust her." But Starsky's body betrayed him, melting into the comfort she offered.

"I'm so sorry, David,"Charlotte continued softly, rubbing a hand lightly up and down his arm. "I tried to make them stop but they wouldn't listen."

Starsky frowned. He was struggling to understand what she was saying.

"Untie me?" he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, David. I can't do that. They might come back at any moment."

Starsky frowned once more. His brain still felt scrambled and he was finding it hard to process her words.

"David, you must listen to me..." she began but Starsky interrupted her.

"Hutch," his voice grated harshly. "You've got to escape and find my partner. Detective Ken Hutchinson. He's..."

Soft fingers pressed on his lips. "Shhh. He won't come."

Starsky struggled against the restraints. "Of course he'll come."

"Hush, David. Calm down. He won't come. He's stopped looking for you."

Starsky's movements stilled as a rogue tear escaped from the corner of one eye and trickled down his face. Starsky cursed this sign of weakness angrily as the tender fingers wiped the tear away. "No," he breathed. "Hutch would never give up."

"He's a cop, David. That's what cops do."

"He's my friend. Hutch will never stop looking for me."

Charlotte stepped aside and watched as Jackson and Whitman resumed their work.

"Maybe not. But by the time we've finished with you, you won't care about him or any of your cop friends," she said to herself.

Unable to protect himself Starsky passed out again and Charlotte took up position beside him, ready to dispense comfort laced with words of poison.

Over a period of several weeks the beatings and murmurings continued. Whenever he attempted to reject the indoctrination he was swiftly punished, so he quickly learned not to question anything.

Starsky tried to erect walls to protect his mind and soul but he was gradually worn down by the physical abuse. He found himself becoming more and more reliant on the solace Charlotte offered and little by little he came to believe her lies.

A tiny portion of the real David Starsky cowered behind the fortress he had built but he was trapped inside, unable to escape. The small voice could not be heard.

The beatings became less frequent and Starsky grew stronger as his wounds healed and he was allowed more food and drink. Charlotte told him more of his role in her enterprise and Starsky was eager for his first assignment, a kind of blood lust coming upon him.

At last his chance came. Charlotte was pleased to have an opportunity to try out her new toy. She had a burgeoning business supplying drugs. One of her pushers had not paid her what she was due despite a visit from Jackson and Whitman. She decided to set Starsky on him, rather as one might set a dog on a smaller defenceless animal.

The result was much as you would expect. Starsky was fully healed, strong, fit and programmed to fight. The pusher was small and weasly, and had been sampling his wares.

Charlotte was delighted with her toy's performance. She now had a deterrent that would satisfy her bloodthirstiness without dirtying her own hands.

The pusher's body was left as a warning to anyone who dared to cross the new dealer in town.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch perched on a stool at Huggy's bar waiting for his friend to finish serving another customer. The place was jumping and Hutch was beginning to regret calling in. It had been seven weeks since Starsky's disappearance and he was no nearer finding him than he had been when he started. He felt mentally and physically drained.

Huggy approached. "What'll it be, my blond brother? A special?"

"I'm not really hungry, Hug, but yeah I'll give it a go."

"Your regular booth is free. Go sit and I'll join you."

Hutch grimaced but realised Huggy had something to tell him, so he got down from the stool and shuffled over to the booth he usually shared with Starsky.

Huggy watched his progress worriedly. Their friend's disappearance was weighing heavily on both of them but particularly on Hutch. Huggy knew he wasn't eating properly, his clothes were beginning to hang off his lean frame, his cheeks were sunken, his hair and eyes dull. He watched as Hutch flopped down wearily, screwing his eyes tightly closed and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Huggy sighed, grabbed the plate that had appeared as if by magic and put it on a tray with two coffees. "Hold the fort, Diane. I'll just be over there with Hutch." Diane nodded as a customer claimed her attention.

Huggy wended his way through the crowd to the quiet booth at the back. He put the tray down and pushed the plate towards Hutch. "There ya go, Blondie," he said quietly. "Eat up."

Hutch smiled wanly and picked up the burger. "Thanks, Huggy." He took a bite then put it down. He cradled the coffee cup in both hands, taking a tentative sip of the hot liquid as he gazed into its depths.

Huggy watched him, saying nothing. Hutch looked up. "What?"

Huggy just kept looking. "What?" Hutch repeated, irritation heating his voice.

"I'm worried about ya, man. Are ya sleepin'? You sure as hell ain't eatin'."

Hutch merely grunted.

"C'mon, Hutch. Ya can't help Starsky like this. Ya need to..."

Hutch leapt to his feet. "What I need is my partner back, not a lecture from you!"

He glared at Huggy then closed his eyes and subsided back onto his seat with a heavy sigh. "Sorry, Hug," he whispered.

"'S okay, my friend. I miss him too."

The two friends sat in silence for several minutes, drinking their coffee, before Hutch stirred himself to ask, "So why did you want me to come sit over here, Hug? You have some news about Starsky?" Hutch couldn't contain the hopeful note that entered his voice.

Huggy shook his head. "Sorry, man. I would've told you that straight away" He cursed himself inwardly for raising Hutch's hopes. He lowered his voice. "Word on the street is there's a new player in town. Name of Charlie. I hear he's one bad dude, ya dig?"

"Yeah? What's he into?"

"Drugs. I hear he had one of his pushers beaten to death for holdin' out on him. There's a lot of frightened people out there."

Hutch straightened in his seat. "White and Hogan had a John Doe, beaten and left for dead in an alley."

"That'll be him," Huggy said, soberly.

Hutch took a few more sips of the rapidly cooling coffee then grabbed a handful of fries. "Thanks, Hug. Gotta go."

Huggy started to protest but Hutch stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Hug. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well Starsky'll never forgive me if I let anything happen to you."

Hutch snorted and shook his head. He gave Huggy's shoulder a quick squeeze before heading for the door. "See ya, Hug."

Huggy watched him leave, the steps a bit more purposeful, the head held a bit higher.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch drove back to headquarters where he found White and Hogan working on some reports for Dobey.

"Hi, guys. I think I got some news on your John Doe. No ID I'm afraid but word is he was a pusher for some new guy in town. Got beaten to death for keeping some of the profits."

"Phew!" Hogan whistled. "That'll get everyone's attention."

"Yeah. Thanks, Hutch," said White. "Any idea who this new guy is?"

"I just got a name...Charlie."

Little did they know 'Charlie' already had another victim in her sights.


	6. Chapter 6

Starsky jumped into the black sedan beside Charlotte. The adrenaline rush he had felt was dissipating rapidly leaving him shaky, breathless and slightly nauseous. He slid sideways in his seat, revelling in the chill from the glass as he rested his head against the window.

Charlotte smiled to herself as she drove. Yet another victim was fighting for his life in an alley, this time the pusher of a rival dealer. Her plan was working so well again. This was not the first time she had set up her business but it was the first time she had used a cop and she was finding the experience exhilarating. She found it even more satisfying that someone to whom other people looked up should succumb to her methods of persuasion like any other man.

It was perfect really she thought to herself, loving the power she felt. An unwilling subject to bend to her will, wind him up and set him off like a clockwork toy.

And this cop was the best yet. He had tried to fight them off but in the end he had given in just like the rest. He had taken longer to subdue but this seemed to make his subjugation more complete and his role as Charlotte's weapon of choice even more potent.

Now the other dealers would begin to sit up and take notice of the new kid on the block. Soon she would be queen of Bay City's drugs empire and all the riches that entailed.

Silently they drove back to her house, Starsky beginning to doze in the passenger seat.

"Come on, David. We're home," she said in the kind of sing-song voice one might use to a small child. "Let's get you inside to bed."

Starsky grumbled under his breath but obediently got out of the car and stumbled to the front door. Charlotte followed him and unlocked the door. Starsky tripped over the step and struggled to keep on his feet as he almost fell through the doorway.

Charlotte closed and locked the door then opened a door off the hallway which revealed a dark staircase leading down to the basement. Turning to Starsky she ordered him to undress and go to bed. He complied like the automaton she had moulded him into.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch slept fitfully, as he had done every night since Starsky's disappearance. Despite his exhaustion he could not attain the rest his body craved. He knew he was making himself ill but seemed powerless to help himself.

But what was even worse was his inability to track down Starsky or his captors. It would be wrong to say the trail had gone cold...there was never a trail to begin with. Whoever had taken his partner had spirited him away without leaving any clues and they had made no demands. Despite his best efforts and those of his captain and the rest of the department, he had been unable to find Starsky. Even Huggy had turned nothing.

When he got to headquarters Dobey called him into his office. "I'm sorry, Hutch, we're going to have to scale down the search." He put up a hand to forestall Hutch's protest. "We're not giving up but I need my men on other jobs. We've had two John Does, badly beaten and left for dead. I want you to work with White and Hogan on this one."

Hutch knew it was pointless to argue. It was either this or go off on unpaid leave to search for Starsky on his own. That idea was very tempting but he realised it was also an impractical one.

He left Dobey's office, picked up a cup and poured himself some coffee. Then he approached White and Hogan's desks. "Dobey wants me to work the John Doe cases with you, fellas."

White looked up. "Thanks, Hutch. Not much to go on at the moment." He tossed two slim files over for Hutch to read, aware that a fresh pair of eyes might just spot something they had missed.

Hutch pulled up a chair and sat down to read both files. It didn't take long as there was so little information contained in them.

"So what about this Charlie character? Do you think he's connected with both these murders?" he asked.

Hogan sat back looking thoughtful. He and White were both slightly older than Hutch with a record second only to his and Starsky's. "Definitely the first one," he said. "Your tip off was too much of a coincidence otherwise."

White broke in. "And the second M.O. is identical, so yeah certainly connected."

Hutch thought for a minute. "Then we need to find out about Charlie," he said. "Where has he suddenly sprung up from? Has he been here all along and is trying to take over from his boss? Or has he blown in from out of town?"

"Good thinking, Hutch," said White. He glanced at his partner. "We'll look at the guys we already know and see what's shaking. You check up on out of towners."

The three detectives separated, White and Hogan going out on patrol to see their snitches and any of the street people who would talk to them.

Hutch had the thankless task of checking records. He decided to go down in person to see if he could persuade whoever was on duty to help him. He was in luck.

"Hutch! How are you doin'?" Officer Minnie Kaplan stood up and came to clasp Hutch's hands, gazing up at him.

"Not too bad thanks, Minnie," he replied, then on seeing her disbelieving expression amended "Well not too good actually."

Minnie pulled him to her and gave him a swift hug. "We'll find him," she vowed solemnly.

Hutch felt tears spring to his eyes at this simple act of compassion. He returned the hug. "Thanks, Minnie," he said gruffly and cleared his throat. "I know we will eventually. It's just taking so long and I don't know what's happening to him."

Minnie stepped back. "We _will_ find him," she affirmed. "One way or another we _will_ find him."

Hutch smiled. If only it were that simple.

"So, what brings you down to my lair, oh handsome one?"

Hutch blushed. "I was hoping you would help me with a task," and he explained what he was looking for.

Minnie was glad to be able to assist the blond half of her favourite team of detectives. She dispatched him for coffee while she began to gather together what they would need.

Several hours later Hutch and Minnie looked at each other in triumph. "Thank you, Minnie. I owe you dinner when this is all over." Minnie began to protest but Hutch stopped her with a finger on her lips. "No, I mean it. I could never have done this on my own. Let me know where you want to go."

Hutch gathered up the notes he and Minnie had made and went back to the squad room. Once there he began to write his report. He had just about finished when White and Hogan returned, looking demoralised. They soon revived when Hutch told them what he and Minnie had discovered.

"C'mon," said Hogan. "We need to run this by Dobey and decide on our next move."


	7. Chapter 7

The three detectives gathered up their files and reports and headed for Captain Dobey's door. Hogan knocked and they entered at Dobey's growl. Hutch returned to the squad-room to snag a chair thus avoiding the one where Starsky usually sat.

White and Hogan had little to show for their day trawling the streets other than confirmation that there was a new dealer called Charlie who appeared to be intent upon taking over the whole city. No one had seen him, but he was undercutting all the other suppliers so users were flocking to his pushers. He already had a reputation that made anyone they spoke to talk in hushed tones, as though afraid he was listening to their conversations.

They had managed to get an ID for the second dead man, Christopher Landers, a well-known pusher for one of the bigger dealers in Bay City. The other man's identity was still a mystery. Autopsies of both men showed they had been badly beaten although the actual cause of death was a stab wound which had penetrated the heart. John Doe did not display any signs of defensive wounds and Landers very few, which led the detectives to believe both had been taken completely by surprise.

Hutch's report had Dobey sitting up straighter. He and Minnie had discovered that Bay City was not the first city to be hit by Charlie. In fact there was a trail from Portland, nearly five years previously, to Bay City via Eugene, Eureka, Santa Rosa, Fresno and Bakersfield.

The MO was always the same and when the police got too close, Charlie's operation closed down. Only now was it becoming clear that Charlie had moved on and set up again each time. And now he had arrived in Bay City.

"Why were we not made aware of this?" Dobey grumbled.

"I don't think anyone had made the connection before now," Hutch said. "There was a body left behind which the investigating officers assumed was Charlie. But Minnie and I think it may have been the person who was doing the dirty work...he had signs of having been in several fights. And on reflection, would the big chief get his hands dirty? We think he hired a street fighter and then disposed of him when he was no longer needed."

Dobey nodded. "Good work, Hutch. So what's our next move?"

The three detectives and their captain spent the next hour discussing their options and formulating a plan. Hutch missed bouncing ideas off Starsky but appreciated White and Hogan's contributions, although they weren't as instinctive as Starsky and himself. He and Starsky were known for being unconventional but they got results, as did White and Hogan in a different way.

Having finalised their plans, all four men left for the night and Hutch finally got the full night's sleep his mind and body craved.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Starsky had also slept well. Although his body ached slightly, a hangover from his exertions the night before, he enjoyed the pampering he received to restore him to full fighting fitness. Charlotte kept him close to her during the day but he was locked in his basement room every night.

Deep inside he knew what he was doing was wrong but that little part of him was hidden away in the deepest recesses of his mind, unable to force its way out.

Now he was at full strength, he spent a lot of his time exercising and honing his physique. He had always looked after his body but now he was even more muscled and strong.

He lay face down on the table as Charlotte applied oil and began to massage his shoulders. Neither spoke for several minutes as Charlotte's strong fingers worked their magic on his tight muscles. Starsky felt himself relaxing and his eyelids growing heavier.

"I have another job for you," she said eventually.

Opening bleary eyes he mumbled "Already?"

Charlotte's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't question me!" she snapped. "If I say you have another job, you have another job."

Starsky rolled over and sat on the edge of the table. He grabbed his shirt from the back of the chair and began to shrug into it. "When and where?" he asked. He never knew their names and never asked.

"Tonight," she said. "I'll take you as usual."

Starsky ran a hand over his head. Charlotte had had his hair cut close to his head. He had glared angrily at himself in the mirror when he had first seen his new image. The effect was as menacing as Charlotte had hoped.

The 'job' went without a hitch...another pusher, another alley. Sometimes he wished one of them would fight back. It was really too easy but hey, he was being well looked after so he shouldn't complain, right?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch was patrolling alone when a call was patched through to him. White's voice came through the radio. "We've got another one, Hutch. One twenty-eight Preston. In the alley between the laundromat and Maria's Coffee Shop."

"I'll be there in five," Hutch acknowledged, slapping the mars light on the roof and activating the siren as he executed a one-eighty degree turn Starsky would have been proud of.

Pulling up outside the laundromat behind Hogan's white Ford, Hutch sprang from the car and strode down the alley towards White and Hogan with long, purposeful strides. Hogan was in conversation with two of the forensics team.

White spotted Hutch and waved him over to where he stood with a short Hispanic man. "This is Carlos Mendoza. He and his wife, Maria, own the coffee shop. Apparently our guy was a regular customer."

"Did you see or hear anything?" Hutch asked.

Mendoza glanced around nervously before answering quietly. "I hear a noise...banging and crashing...so I open the door and I see a man running away. He jump into a black car and drive off towards Lancaster. Then I see Chippy on the ground so I ring the police and ambulance."

"Can you describe the man?"

Another fearful glance and a shrug. "Sorry, no. It was dark."

The detectives waited patiently. "He wear black and it was dark."

White looked at Hutch. "Would you take Mr Mendoza's statement, Hutch? We'll work the scene here."

Hutch felt a flash of irritation which he quickly suppressed. As the lone detective it was obvious that he would be the one to carry out the more mundane tasks. And of course it was White and Hogan's case originally.

Hutch nodded. "Come this way, Mr Mendoza. I want you to tell me everything you can remember."

Hutch and Mr Mendoza headed for a table towards the back of the café where Mrs Mendoza brought them some coffee. Hutch took out his notebook and patted his pockets for a pencil, giving Mrs Mendoza an embarrassed smile as she passed him one from her apron pocket. However, although Mr Mendoza was keen to help, it was clear that he had seen nothing useful.

Hutch was just closing his notebook when Mr Mendoza suddenly said "I think the driver was a woman."

Hutch blinked. "The driver? He had an accomplice? A woman?"

"Yes, sir. A woman."

"I need you to come to headquarters as soon as possible to make a formal statement, Mr Mendoza. Thank you for your cooperation." Hutch gave the man his card and went in search of White and Hogan to give them this startling piece of news.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Four weeks and five bodies later, Charlotte paced the floor angrily, aware that Jackson and Whitman were watching her apprehensively. Word had reached her that the police were looking for a black sedan driven by a woman and with a black-clothed passenger in connection with the 'alley beatings', as the press had dubbed them.

She realised that the net was beginning to close in already. The Bay City Police Department had moved much more swiftly than she had expected and she could not comprehend how they had discovered so much about her operation so quickly.

"Who are the cops in charge of the case?" she demanded.

"White, Hogan and Hutchinson," Jackson replied in a surly tone.

"Hey, here's the good part," Whitman smirked. "Hutchinson was your David's partner." He and Jackson laughed.

Charlotte looked pensive. "We need to take them out," she declared.

Jackson and Whitman stared. "You want us to kill three cops?" asked Whitman incredulously.

Charlotte pinned him with a glacial stare. "I want you to kill _two_ cops," she said. "I think it might be amusing to let David dispose of Detective Hutchinson himself."


	8. Chapter 8

Starsky once again lay on the table as Charlotte applied herself to his massage. "I have a new assignment for you," she said quietly. "A man called Hutchinson. He's a cop."

She felt Starsky tense and poured more oil between his shoulder blades. "Remember what I told you?" she asked, concentrating her efforts on the knots of tension beneath her hands.

"Yeah," Starsky drawled. "Cops are bad. I am not a cop. I am not bad any more."

"Well done, David. This cop is the worst of them all and you must eliminate him."

The small voice in Starsky's mind tried to protest but to no avail.

"He used to call himself your partner and your friend but he abandoned you when you needed him. You were lost and he deserted you. Now he is getting too close to our little enterprise and we need to dispose of him before he hurts us. And he _will_ hurt you if he gets the chance."

Charlotte continued with her poisonous lies and Starsky could feel his anger beginning to grow. "I'm going to enjoy killing this one." he thought.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch, White and Hogan had spread the word around their informants that they were looking for a black sedan driven by a woman, along with a sketchy description of the male passenger. Although most were too scared to cooperate openly, the detectives were aware that word was spreading and all three felt that they were closing in on their quarry.

They had spent a quiet evening at Huggy's, enjoying the opportunity to switch off for a few hours. Hutch found himself liking the two older men more and more as he spent time with them. He had always respected them as cops but now he was getting to know them as men.

Not for the first time he wished that Starsky was with them. He became more introspective as he tried to think of new ways to find out what had become of his partner. He was reluctantly beginning to think that Starsky was dead, although his heart refused to believe it.

At around ten White and Hogan said their goodbyes and left to go home. Hutch moved to the bar and stayed another half hour chatting with Huggy.

As was his habit, Hutch left by the back door and made his way to his car. As he was pulling the key from his pocket he was pushed violently from behind to crash into his car, face first. He felt his nose break and blood pooled in his mouth as a succession of blows to his kidneys made him grunt in pain. As he began to straighten and turn, a kick to his knee sent him to the ground.

Hutch looked up at his attacker, unable to make out his features in the darkness. He staggered to his feet, his right leg trembling as he tried to put weight on it. Although at a disadvantage from the surprise attack there was no way Hutch was going down without a fight. And he knew this was a fight for his life.

His assailant sprang forwards in a flurry of blows which drove Hutch back against his car. He could feel himself weakening but launched his own counter-attack, landing punches to ribs and face, satisfied to hear the other man grunt in pain.

"This guy's good," Hutch thought as he parried the blows coming his way.

Grasping his opponent they fell to the ground, rolling around in the muck, exchanging more punches. Hutch attempted to use some of his long forgotten college wrestling moves and he knew a few tricks that Starsky had taught him, but his opponent seemed to anticipate his every move. They came apart and got to their feet, both breathing heavily. As the man danced away out of reach, the light from a passing car illuminated the alley for a split second.

Hutch gasped. "Starsky?"

Starsky leapt forward again landing a punch to Hutch's already broken nose that made his vision blur.

He backed away unable and unwilling to hurt his partner. "Starsk? Please, buddy," he mumbled, spitting out the blood that once again filled his mouth. "It's me, Hutch."

But the Starsky Hutch knew was lost in his own mind, barricaded in the fortress he had constructed. The Starsky confronting him was consumed with blood-lust and filled with the murmurings of his mistress. He pressed home his advantage ruthlessly.

Hutch fell to the ground, overcome with sadness for his friend, and slipped into unconsciousness.

Starsky stood over him fingering the knife in his pocket, feeling a strange reluctance to finish the job. As he flicked open the blade, the door to the bar opened flooding the alley with light.

"What's goin' on out here?" came Huggy's voice. "I'm gonna call the police! Get outa here!"

Starsky spared Hutch one more glance before he ran to the waiting car and Charlotte sped off.

Huggy Bear crouched beside Hutch's body. "Hey, you OK, man? Let's get you up and take you inside, huh?" A moan answered him. "Hey, come on, fella. Up ya get. Ya can't stay here, dig?"

Rolling the man over Huggy gasped as he realised it was Hutch. He ran to the open door and shouted to Diane to call the cops and an ambulance. "Tell them 'officer down', that'll get 'em here quicker."

Then he ran back to try and comfort his stricken friend.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

As Huggy had predicted, the call of 'officer down' had speedily brought the emergency services to the alley behind his bar. Hutch was beginning to stir when the paramedics arrived but had not roused enough to argue about going to hospital. Huggy spoke briefly to Diane then climbed into the ambulance to accompany his friend.

On arrival at hospital Hutch was whisked away to the emergency room leaving Huggy to book him in at reception. He folded his lanky frame into a chair to wait for news. As he expected Captain Dobey arrived soon after, having been informed by the attending uniforms, and he was swiftly followed by White and Hogan.

It seemed like hours later a doctor came out to see them. All four men stood in unison. "How is he?" Dobey asked gruffly.

"Nothing too serious," the doctor replied. "His nose is broken and he's badly bruised but he will be fine." A collective sigh of relief greeted this. "I'd like to keep him in a couple of days as he had lost consciousness but also to check his kidney function as he has severe bruising in that area."

"When can we see him, doc?" Huggy asked.

"He's being moved to a room right now. I'll get a nurse to let you know when he's settled."

Captain Dobey shook the doctor's hand and they all sat back down to wait for the nurse.

A short while later a nurse came to take them to Hutch's room. White and Hogan waited outside while Huggy and the captain went in.

Hutch lay back on the pillows with his eyes closed but he cranked them open when he heard his friends enter. Dobey took in his appearance, schooling his face not to reveal the shock he felt. "What happened, Hutch?" he asked gently.

"He got the drop on me, Cap'n." Hutch looked disgusted with himself and his eyes slid away from his captain's. "He came up behind me, mashed my face on my car and kicked my legs out from under me. I...I...I tried to fight back but..." Hutch's voice died away. Then he looked at Dobey and Huggy with tears in his eyes and said hesitantly "Cap...it was Starsky...it was Starsky."

Both men stared at him in bewilderment. "He didn't recognise me...just kept hitting me and hitting me...like a man possessed..."

Captain Dobey took a breath. "Right, Hutch. White and Hogan are outside. I want you to give them a statement. Then you're going to get some rest and start healing." Hutch started to object but Dobey stopped him. "That's an order, son. There's nothing you can do tonight. Talk to White and Hogan and get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Huggy?"

"Yeah, just a minute, Captain." Huggy placed a hand on Hutch's shoulder and gazed into his pain filled eyes. "We'll find him, Hutch. We'll find him and bring him back. I'll call in some favours and we'll find him."

"Thanks, Hug," Hutch whispered watching him and Dobey exit the room.

A few minutes later White and Hogan entered the room. "How're ya doin'. Hutch," White asked. "Dobey says Starsky did this to ya?"

"Yeah," Hutch said unsteadily. "Look, guys, can we just get this over with?"

"Sure thing," said Hogan getting out his notebook and pen.

After Hutch had told them all he could remember, Hogan stowed away his notebook saying "You get some rest, Hutch. We'll go and talk to Huggy."

"Yeah, well you guys take care. Chances are if they're after me, they'll be after you too. We must be getting close."

"We'll put a guard on your door just in case," said White.

Hutch rolled his eyes but didn't have the energy to argue. He struggled to get comfortable and eventually fell into a restless sleep haunted by nightmares of Starsky trying to kill him.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Charlotte was furious when Starsky told her Hutch was not dead. "You'll have to do it again!" she shrieked. "He's got to die!"

"Why?" Starsky asked, wishing he understood why this one was so important.

"Because I say so," she hissed. "Because he's a cop and he's getting too close. Cops are bad, remember? Remember what I told you?"

Starsky closed his eyes. "Yes, Charlie. I remember. Cops are bad. I am not a cop any more. I am not bad any more," he intoned.

"Good," she said, visibly calming down. "Good boy. You have done well but you must complete your mission. Rest now and I will get Jackson and Whitman to find out where he is. Then we can make plans."

Starsky let out the breath he had not been aware he was holding, relieved that he was not to be punished as he had feared. This was the first time he had failed and he had dreaded what might be done to him in retribution.

He showered and tended to the cuts and bruises inflicted upon him by his latest victim, the first he had received. Then he went to bed, his dreams punctuated by visions of the tall, blond cop.


	9. Chapter 9

Hutch endured a night disturbed by regular checks from the nursing staff, as well as nightmares when he _was_ allowed to sleep. This was followed by a day of pointless, to his way of thinking, tests.

He had fallen asleep after breakfast on the second day and was surprised to see Huggy dozing in a chair beside his bed when he awoke an hour or so later. He attempted to stretch but immediately regretted it when his battered body protested. His groan alerted Huggy who sat up and smiled. "Good morning, amigo."

"Huggy! What are you doing here?"

"Waitin' to blow you outa this joint."

Hutch smiled. "That sounds good, Hug. Let's go."

"Not so fast, my blond brother. I promised the pretty nurse I would tell her when you woke up."

"Aw, Hug..." Hutch began, but Huggy had already pressed the call button.

Soon after, a nurse bustled in and proceeded to silently check Hutch's vital signs. "I'll tell the doctor you're awake," she said as she hurried back out again.

Huggy looked on in amusement. "You're losing your touch, Blondie...although you're not looking your best just now."

"Just help me up, will ya?" Hutch hissed in a breath as Huggy helped him to a sitting position. He rested his hands on his knees, shoulders slumped and head hanging. Huggy eyed him worriedly.

"Are you sure you're ready to go home?"

Hutch shot him a glare. Huggy held up his hands. "Just askin'."

Hutch slowly pulled himself into a more upright position. Every part of his body ached and he longed for a hot shower or maybe even a soak in the bath tub to ease the pain and tension that permeated his whole being. He wasn't sure how he was going to relieve the ache in his heart however.

It was inconceivable to him that Starsky would willingly attack him, and certainly there had been no flicker of recognition in his eyes, but Starsky _had_ attacked him. He needed to find him, then he was sure everything would be right again.

A tall, thin, bespectacled doctor entered the room followed by the nurse. "Good morning, Detective Hutchinson. Let me examine you and we'll see if you're ready to go home."

"I'll wait outside," Huggy excused himself.

The doctor took his time checking Hutch's injuries and reading his medical notes. Hutch felt himself becoming increasingly impatient but knew better than to antagonise the man so he kept quiet.

At last the doctor spoke. "Well, you've been very lucky, detective. No broken bones but you have extensive bruising and you will be sore for several days. Your kidneys appear undamaged and our tests bear that out, but again that area is going to be tender for some time. I'll prescribe some painkillers for you and you're free to go."

"Thanks, doctor."

"But if you have any problems you _must_ come back immediately."

"Yessir," Hutch replied, grateful that escape was imminent.

"Nurse, will you deal with Detective Hutchinson's discharge papers please."

"Thank you, doctor." Hutch shook his hand.

The process of being discharged seemed to take forever but at last Hutch was safely installed in Huggy's car and en route for Venice Place. Mounting the stairs to his apartment felt like climbing Everest but he managed. He felt Huggy watching him and was determined to do it on his own, although sweat was beading on his forehead and his legs were trembling with exertion.

Huggy knew better than to say anything. He saw Hutch settled on the couch and then hustled into the kitchen. He came back with a sandwich and a glass of juice.

"Here ya go. I'll go get your painkillers while you enjoy that."

"I don't need 'em," Hutch growled.

Huggy stared at him for a moment with narrowed eyes then said "I'll go get them anyway. Eat up and enjoy."

Hutch watched him go then, realising he was hungry, he picked up the sandwich and took a bite.

He was half asleep when Huggy returned but soon roused himself when he realised White and Hogan were accompanying him.

"Any news, guys?" he asked eagerly.

"Sorry, Hutch. Nothing yet," said Hogan.

"They'll have gone underground," added White. "Don't worry, Hutch. We'll find them."

Hutch made to get up. "I shouldn't be here. I should be at headquarters." He subsided back onto the couch, biting back a groan of pain.

Hogan dropped down on his haunches to look into Hutch's face. "Stay here today, Hutch...Dobey's orders. Start to heal and come in fresh tomorrow. We won't do anything without telling you first."

Hutch stared at him for a long moment then looked at Huggy who gave a small nod. He was filled with frustration but could see the futility of going against Dobey's orders. Also he recognised the limitations of his own body just then.

"We've got to get him out of there," he whispered. "I'm sure he doesn't know what he's doing."

White rested a hand on his shoulder. "We _will_ find him, Hutch. We're going on duty now and we'll be talking to everyone and looking everywhere. We'll see you in the morning."

Hutch spent the rest of the day dozing fitfully. Each time he awoke Huggy was there, silently supportive and plying him with food.

Finally at about nine o'clock Hutch said "Go home, Huggy. I'm gonna have a shower and go to bed."

"'S okay, Hutch. I wanna stay. His curliness would never forgive me if I left you alone in this state."

Hutch smiled gently. "I'm not in a state, Huggy," he said softly. "But thank you. I appreciate it."

"No problemo, amigo."

Once again Hutch's sleep was disturbed by nightmares which he tried to keep quiet, but judging by Huggy's concerned glances the following morning, he had not been successful.

Physically he felt a little better but when he looked in the mirror, he could see that his face was a mess, his nose swollen and both eyes blackened as well as a cut on his cheekbone and various bruises. "I wonder if Starsky looks this bad?" he thought, then hoped that he didn't.

A hot shower soothed his aching muscles and Huggy had prepared him a good breakfast. "Thanks, Huggy. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

"Hey, that's what friends are for."

Hutch arrived at headquarters a little later and was nearly bowled over by Minnie when she saw him. He grunted as she flung her arms around his waist. "Hutch! Are you okay? I was so worried when the call came in." She looked up at him. "Oh, Hutch. Your poor face."

"Don't worry, Minnie. I'll live."

"I hope the other guy looks as bad as you...or worse."

A cloud passed over Hutch's face and he drew Minnie to one side. Looking around to make sure no one could overhear he said quietly "It was Starsky." Minnie gaped at him. Hutch nodded. "Starsky did this."

"No," Minnie gasped. "Starsky wouldn't do this to you. He couldn't."

"I know, Minnie. I know. I don't think he knew what he was doing. He certainly didn't seem to recognise me. I tried to get through to him...I really tried. I c...c...couldn't...I...I...I just couldn't hit him back. I couldn't hurt him."

Minnie put her hand to his face gently. "Hutch, sweetie. You'll find him and sort this out...I know you will."

Hutch smiled sadly. "Thanks, Minnie. I hope so."

Hutch went into the squad room, fielding comments from the other detectives. He felt a bit embarrassed as he had obviously come off second best, but the ribbing was good-natured.

"Hutchinson! Hogan! White!" came Dobey's voice.

White and Hogan picked up their cups and files. Hutch got a cup, checked inside then poured some coffee and followed the others into Dobey's office, closing the door behind him.

Dobey looked at Hutch in concern. "How are you, Hutch? Are you sure you're up to this?"

Hutch's eyes flashed and he unconsciously pulled himself straighter. "Yes, Captain. I'm fine."

Dobey eyed him with suspicion. "You don't look fine."

"I just want to find Starsky and get back to normal."

"We all do," said Dobey, apparently satisfied that Hutch was capable of functioning as a competent police officer. "So let's get down to business."

After reviewing all the statements they felt no closer to solving the case.

"I think _they_ think we are close," said White.

"Yeah. That's why they targeted you, Hutch," agreed Hogan.

"And that makes you targets too," said Hutch.

"So lets help them," said White.

"You are _not_ setting yourselves up! Dobey barked.

"I think it's a good idea, Captain. We go about our business as conspicuously as possible and draw them to us," said Hutch. "We know that we are targets so we'll be ready."

"I don't like it," Dobey grumbled.

Hogan chimed in. "Yeah but we know the score, Captain. White and I can watch each other's backs like always and you'll have no shortage of volunteers to cover Hutch."

Hutch quickly hid his annoyance behind a mask of equanimity, knowing that the captain would not agree to him cruising the streets alone. "Look, Cap, I'll stay here today and work with Minnie, see if we can find out any more. Then tonight I'll go to Huggy's and follow my normal routine."

Dobey groused a little more but knew his officers needed to go out on patrol as normal and at least they were prepared for trouble.

Hutch sought out Minnie, taking all the files with him and they started the painstaking business of toiling through all the records one more time to try and find a clue that would help them track down Starsky and his abductors.

They took a break in the canteen. "This isn't quite what I had in mind when I promised you a meal," Hutch smiled.

Minnie returned his smile. "And I said you don't need to..."

"Yes I do. We wouldn't be so far on with the investigation without you and I'm sure Starsky will want to thank you himself when he's back."

Minnie was about to reply when Captain Dobey approached their table.

"Hutchinson, I need you to come with me. Someone hit White and Hogan." He put up a hand to stop them before either could speak. "They're both okay, thank God. Their back-up did a good job. And although they got away we have a make on their car and an address. I thought you'd want to be in on this one."

Hutch was out of his seat like a jack-rabbit. Minnie touched his hand. "Take care, honey. Come back safe, both of you." He squeezed her hand then followed Dobey.


	10. Chapter 10

The taking of Jackson and Whitman was surprisingly and somewhat disappointingly low-key and easy. They had clearly not expected to be tracked down so quickly and were totally unprepared when the cops broke down their door. After a brief struggle, both men were restrained and transported to headquarters. However a search of their premises did not reveal Starsky, the mysterious woman driver or Charlie.

Hutch was furious that he was not permitted to question either man but Dobey insisted he could only observe, pointing out that it was White and Hogan's case. Hutch had to admit they were pretty good but was sure he and Starsky could have obtained the required information faster.

White and Hogan certainly had an incentive however, having been ambushed and shot at. In fact, White was conducting the interviews with his left arm strapped where he had been hit.

Jackson cracked first and with the promise of leniency if he cooperated, he gave up the address where Charlie was hiding Starsky.

As Jackson was being taken back to the cells he saw Hutch and smirked. "Think you're gonna get your partner back, Hutchinson? He's not your partner any more, he belongs to Charlie now."

Dobey was ready to restrain his detective but Hutch merely eyed Jackson icily and replied "Starsky will _always_ be my partner no matter what you've done to him."

"He'll never be your partner again, Hutchinson!" Jackson shouted as he was hustled away. "We've broken him! He'll never be a cop again!"

Luckily the officers escorting Jackson were able to hurry him away before Hutch could get to him.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It was not normal practice for Captain Dobey to ride with one of his detectives on a bust, but then these were not normal circumstances. He was determined to oversee Charlie's arrest and Starsky's rescue in person.

They sped to the address Jackson had given them. White and Hogan followed, along with a patrol car. All three vehicles killed their lights and sirens as they neared their destination. They coasted silently to a halt outside the property they had been directed to. It was on a street where all the houses were built closely together. Each one had a small patch of grass to the front and a backyard separated from their neighbour's by fences in various stages of disrepair. Most had a car parked out front despite it being early afternoon.

Hutch and Craven, one of the patrolmen, went round the back. White and Hogan gave them a couple of minutes to get into position then Hogan hammered on the front door shouting "Police! Open up!" He kicked in the door as Craven simultaneously kicked in the back door.

All four officers worked their way into the house, weapons drawn. Dobey and the second patrolman followed White and Hogan inside .

The back door opened directly into a kitchen. Hutch and Craven quickly cleared the room and moved into a hallway with three more doors opening off it and a staircase. White and Hogan emerged from one of the rooms shaking their heads as Hutch and Craven entered the hallway.

Hutch and Craven checked a second room, finding no one. The third door led to the basement. As there was a key in the door, they decided to clear the rest of the house before coming back to check down there. Hutch locked the door and pocketed the key.

As Hogan put his foot on the first step, a small, blonde woman appeared at the top of the stairs. Dressed all in red with a white scarf at her neck, she made Hutch think of the 'tomato' on legs.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" she asked, her voice low and melodious.

" Police officers," said Hogan, holding up his badge. "We're looking for Charlie."

"That would probably be me, "she said. "I'm Charlotte Walmsley. My friends call me Charlie."

There was silence for a heartbeat then Hogan took the stairs two at a time, grasped her arm and brought her none too gently down to the hallway.

"Where is Detective Starsky?" Dobey asked.

Her eyes flicked to the basement door then returned to Dobey's. "He is mine," she said coldly. "David is here of his own free will."

"Read her her rights," Dobey growled to Craven. "And take her to headquarters."

"You've got nothing on me," she purred.

"Your associates have told us all we need to know," said Dobey.

Charlotte's eyes flashed but she laughed. "You take their word over mine? I have done nothing wrong."

"Craven!" Dobey barked. "Book her! And use the Miranda card. I want this done by the book, no loop-holes she can wriggle out of."

Charlotte looked at Hutch, eyeing him insolently from head to toe. "You must be Detective Hutchinson. You did well...the most entertaining fight I've watched."

Hutch felt sick. This woman had done something to his partner and then set the two of them against each other. "And she was _entertained_ by it," he thought in disgust.

"My lawyer will have me out in no time. I've done nothing wrong." Charlotte hissed as she was led away by Craven and his partner.

Hutch retrieved the key from his pocket and unlocked the basement door. It was dark and Hutch fumbled inside the door for a light switch. He led the way down the steep staircase and stopped so suddenly White nearly cannoned into him. The basement was furnished as a small, one-room apartment with a sofa, a table with a small tv on top, two cupboards, a sink and small cooker, a bed in one corner and a curtained area that presumably hid toilet facilities.

A dark-haired man lay on the bed with his back to the stairs. He did not move and Hutch feared the worst as he advanced quietly on the silent figure.

Hutch reached out a tentative hand and placed it gently on the man's shoulder. All four officers were startled at the response this touch elicited. It was as though Hutch had thrown a switch connecting the figure to the mains. Starsky sprang from the bed and adopted an aggressive pose almost before they could blink. Hutch took an involuntary step back, then raised both hands defensively.

"Starsky?" he said softly.

Starsky's eyes narrowed as he recognised the man in front of him. "You!" he spat. "What're _you_ doin' here?"

"I've come for you, Starsk."

"Ha! Can't take me on your own then?" Starsky glanced quickly at Dobey, White and Hogan before turning his gaze back to Hutch. "Shame. I thought you were a worthy opponent but obviously I was wrong."

"Starsky, I don't want to fight you, I want to help you."

"Yeah right," Starsky sneered. "Scared ya can't take me so ya bring your friends...cop."

Hutch flinched and glanced at Dobey. "What's my name, Starsky?"

"Don't need to know your name. You're a cop, that's all I need to know."

Dobey, White and Hogan exchanged incredulous looks but Hutch remained focused on his friend. He gentled his voice even more and took a step forward. "C'mon, Starsk. Let me help you."

Starsky took a corresponding step backwards. "Don't need no help. 'Specially from a cop. 'Specially from you."

"Starsky, listen to yourself. You _do_ need help...and I can help you."

Hutch motioned to the others and, somewhat reluctantly, they retraced their steps to the hallway leaving Starsky and Hutch alone in the basement.

"Okay, Starsky. We're alone now, so are you gonna to tell me what's goin' on here?"

"Ain't nothin' goin' on," Starsky said sulkily. "'Cept you disturbin' me." His eyes flicked past Hutch. "Where's Charlie?"

"She's gone, Starsk. She can't hurt you any more."

"Noooooo," Starsky moaned. "No, no, no, no, NO! What have you done to her?"

Almost without warning he launched himself at Hutch in a frenzy. Fortunately Hutch was half prepared for it but that did not prevent him being propelled back by the force of the attack. He parried most of the blows Starsky was aiming at him, all the while talking soothingly trying to calm his friend down.

"Starsky, please...please, buddy...c'mon, Starsk...easy now...calm down."

Starsky was enraged beyond reason. "Fight me, damn you! Fight! Come on, you coward!" He stood panting, eyes wild. He raised both hands and beckoned to Hutch tauntingly. "C'mon, big boy! Take your best shot!"

Hutch looked at his friend. "Starsky, please...don't make me do this."

"Aw come on," Starsky drawled. "You know you want to."

"No, Starsk. I don't want to," Hutch said quietly, his voice low and filled with emotion . "I want to help you."

The real David Starsky responded to the intensity colouring Hutch's voice and peeped over the parapet of his fortress but Charlotte's creation pushed him firmly back.

"Yeah, that's what you cops always say but you don't mean it."

"It's true, Starsky. Let me help you...please."

"You cops are all the same...you're all bad. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you."

Hutch fought not to react. He was beginning to accept that Starsky had been brainwashed in some way but even so was completely taken aback that Starsky no longer trusted him. He had always felt that their mutual friendship and trust could overcome anything. He had never before had any reason to question it, it just was...an intrinsic component of their partnership. And now Starsky was casting doubt on Hutch's whole view of their relationship.

"Maybe it's because I took so long to find him," Hutch thought, a little snake of guilt beginning to uncoil in his mind. He swallowed and looked Starsky in the eye.

"I am so sorry I didn't find you, Starsky. We looked and looked but there was no sign of you. I should have tried harder...I am so sorry, buddy. For what it's worth, _I_ still trust _you_."

"It's worth squat, cop. Why should you trust me? I'm nothing to you," Starsky hissed venomously. "And you're nothing to me."

Hutch couldn't believe what he was hearing. What had that woman done to Starsky? Hearing the cutting words coming from Starsky's mouth was like a knife to his heart. But he still had to try to salvage their friendship.

"Starsky, you are my best friend, the best friend I ever had. And as far as I'm concerned nothing can change that. You're my partner."

Starsky snorted. "Huh! Not any more, buddy boy. I am not a cop. Cops are bad and I am not bad any more."

Hutch felt as though his heart was breaking as he realised he was going to have to restrain Starsky to remove him from the basement. He stepped forward but Starsky took this as a threat and once again began raining blows on Hutch.

"Starsky...please...I don't wanna do this," Hutch begged but his words fell on deaf ears.

Fending off the blows as best he could, Hutch suddenly pressed forward and bore Starsky up against the wall, putting his height and weight advantage to good use. He captured one of Starsky's wrists, holding it firmly, and rammed his forearm across Starsky's throat.

"Starsky! Stop this right now or I'll have to cuff you!"

Starsky's reply was to attempt to hit Hutch with his free hand. Hutch increased the pressure on Starsky's throat and letting go of Starsky's wrist, snagged his cuffs from his back pocket. He had snapped one onto Starsky's wrist almost before he'd realised what was happening. Then he spun Starsky around so that he was facing the wall, spread his legs apart and pulled his free hand behind his back. Starsky's face was pressed painfully against the wall.

"C'mon, Starsky. Stop this now. Please, buddy." Hutch's tone was agonised but Starsky continued to struggle.

Starsky was almost crying with frustration as he tried unsuccessfully to break the hold Hutch had on him.

"C'mon, Starsk. Relax."

Starsky struggled some more then suddenly slumped in defeat taking Hutch to the floor with him. Hutch quickly snapped on the other cuff then held Starsky in his arms.

"I got you, buddy. I got you. We're gonna get through this. I got you."

He looked to the ceiling then back to his friend, tears swimming in his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

A week later Hutch was slumped disconsolately in a chair in Captain Dobey's office. Dobey looked with concern at his detective. Most of the bruising had faded, the cuts were healing and his nose was less swollen but Dobey was worried about the mental bruising Hutch was suffering from.

Although Starsky was out of Charlotte's clutches he continued to repeat the mantra she had implanted in his consciousness. Even more incomprehensible to the Captain was Starsky's reaction to Hutch. He had thought that nothing could come between his two detectives but Starsky reacted so violently to Hutch's presence that the doctors had been forced to ban Hutch from visiting. Hutch had reluctantly agreed in the hopes it would speed up Starsky's recovery.

"How are you, son?" Dobey asked.

Hutch lifted lacklustre eyes. "I'm fine, Captain."

"You don't look fine," Dobey said gently. "Do you need more time off?"

"What I _need_ is Starsky back on duty beside me! But it doesn't look like that's gonna happen any time soon!" Hutch said heatedly. He took in a breath then exhaled noisily. "Sorry, Cap. I just feel so helpless."

Hutch got up and began to pace. "They say they're gonna start to reprogramme him. Reprogramme! Like he's one of Minnie's computers!" Hutch let out a shivery sigh. "It's not right, Captain...it's just not right."

Hutch stopped pacing and Dobey came up behind him as he stared out of the window. He rested his hand on Hutch's shoulder. "Is there anything I can do, Hutch?"

Hutch shook his head. "I just wish I could see him but he gets so agitated they won't let me in any more."

Dobey observed his detective carefully and came to a decision. "I want you to spend the rest of the day making sure we have a water-tight case against that woman and her henchmen. Get Minnie to help...you two work well together." He put up a hand to forestall the inevitable protest. "I'm going to go see Starsky myself."

It was a measure of Hutch's desolate mood that he did not argue or ask to accompany his superior.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Dobey drove across town to the secure unit where Starsky was being held. He was shown into the office of Starsky's psychiatrist, Dr Shirley Brumley, who shook his hand and offered him coffee. Dobey observed her as she busied herself with the coffee pot. Dr Brumley was a tall, willowy lady in her late thirties with auburn hair pulled back loosely into a bun from which tendrils escaped. She adjusted her glasses as she sat behind her desk and looked Dobey in the eye.

"I'm glad you've come to see me, Captain. I hope you can give me some insight into Detective Starsky and most especially his relationship with Detective Hutchinson."

Dobey perched on the edge of his chair and took a sip of his coffee. "I would have thought Detective Hutchinson would be the best person to speak to," he said. "He and Starsky are very close."

"Yes, that's what he told me. I was hoping for a different perspective to shed light on Detective Starsky's behaviour. His reaction to Detective Hutchinson is quite extreme."

Dr Brumley paused and Dobey raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue. "We have managed to get a little information about what happened to him during his captivity. We believe he was subjected to some form of brainwashing and will be working with him to undo the damage. Detective Hutchinson appears to be the target of his...uh...mission, and as such every time he attempts to visit, Detective Starsky feels compelled to fulfil his mission."

Dobey put down his cup and sank back into the chair. He had found it hard to believe that Starsky could do harm to Hutch but here was the evidence laid bare.

"Can I see him?" he asked.

"Of course, Captain. Come with me."

Dobey lumbered to his feet and followed the doctor down a long corridor of closed doors. Stopping at one of the doors, Dr Brumley ushered the captain in. He found himself looking through an observation window into a small room. He could see Starsky lying on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His hands rested on his stomach, clenched fists the only sign of any tension within him.

"Is he like this all the time?" Dobey asked worriedly. "Normally he can't keep still."

"Most of the time," Dr Brumley affirmed. "At first he would not speak but he is beginning to respond to myself and my assistants and we're starting to build up a picture of what happened to him."

Dobey could feel his anger growing as he listened to the doctor. "We think that Detective Starsky has been subjected to classic brainwashing techniques," she said. "Sensory overload, sleep deprivation, withholding food and water, physical and mental abuse..." Dr Brumley gazed through the window at Starsky with sympathetic eyes. "Then another person offers help, comfort, softness...and of course the subject responds to this. This 'friend' promises that things will change if the subject accepts what they say. Gradually new thoughts are introduced, in this case effectively a new moral compass. We think his memories have been erased or covered up. He seems very dependent on someone called Charlie."

"She's the woman who masterminded this whole thing," Dobey growled. "Can I talk to him?"

Dr Brumley hesitated then gave a curt nod. "Very well. You can try but don't be surprised if he doesn't respond to you." She picked up a phone and called for assistance. Dobey followed the doctor to the door of Starsky's room where two male nurses met them.

Unlocking the door, Dr Brumley led them into Starsky's room. He made no sign that he had heard them.

"David," said Dr Brumley softly. "You have a visitor."

Starsky did not move.

"David? Are you going to say 'hello' to your visitor?"

Starsky remained still and silent. Dr Brumley looked at Dobey and raised her eyebrows.

Dobey cleared his throat. "Hello, Dave...uh...Starsky. How're you doing?" He closed his eyes and shook his head at the banality of his question. Starsky did not respond apart from a slight tightening of his jaw. Dr Brumley nodded encouragement so Dobey cleared his throat again.

"Starsky, I need to take a statement from you, son." Still no response. "Starsky? Do you know who I am?"

Dobey moved nearer to the bed. "David?...Dave?..."

Starsky rolled over with his back to them, curling up as small as he could. Dobey reached out hesitantly and gently placed his hand on Starsky's shoulder. "Dave? It's me, Captain Dobey...uh...Harold."

Starsky seemed to shrink even more and Dobey drew his hand back. He turned distressed eyes on the doctor who moved towards the bed. "It's okay, David. We're going now. Practice those relaxation techniques we've been teaching you."

She turned to one of the nurses. "Danny?" He nodded and moved towards the bed, murmuring in soothing tones.

Dobey followed the doctor back to the observation room and watched as Starsky slowly relaxed and fell asleep. Then he and Dr Brumley returned to her office where he filled her in on Starsky's background, his police career and his relationship with Hutch.

She was especially interested in his military background. "Soldiers were taught survival techniques to try to prevent brainwashing by the enemy if caught," she explained to Dobey. "They were taught to psychologically remove themselves from their situation. I wonder if David was able to utilise any of his training? Obviously he wouldn't be expecting to need it and would be out of practice, so to speak, but it might just give us the answers we need."

Dobey looked a little brighter at that but Dr Brumley cautioned that it would be a long, slow process. "It will probably take much longer to undo than the original conditioning and there is no guarantee of success I'm afraid."

She then explained the procedure to Dobey as gently as she could but Dobey became increasingly horrified as he realised this would mean replicating many of the elements of the original brainwashing, particularly the sensory overload and sleep deprivation.

It meant that Starsky would be disorientated for a time but then it was hoped that Dr Brumley and her team would be able to replace the implanted thoughts and ideas with Starsky's own.

It was a long shot but it was the only one they had.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Three weeks later Hutch was trying to relax at Huggy's. He sat in the booth he and Starsky favoured, nursing a beer and staring into the distance. Huggy slid into the booth beside him.

"Any news, amigo?"

Hutch refocused his gaze onto his friend's concerned face. He shook his head. "Nothing new," he said dejectedly. "I can't believe we're going through this."

"Trouble does seem to follow you two around," Huggy agreed. "Have you been to see him yet?"

Hutch shook his head again. "They still won't let me in, Hug. I don't know what to do to help him...I feel so helpless."

Huggy rested a hand on Hutch's arm. "Not much longer, bro. I'm thinkin' somethin's gotta break soon."

Hutch snorted a small laugh. "So long as it's not Starsky that breaks." He chugged down the rest of his beer and stood up. "See ya tomorrow, Hug."

Huggy watched his friend leave, shaking his head sadly. It just didn't seem right seeing a Hutch without a Starsky.

Next morning when Hutch arrived at headquarters, Dobey was waiting for him.

"Come on, Hutch. Dr Brumley wants to see us. We have an appointment at ten."

Hutch's heart felt lighter than it had done since this whole sorry saga had begun. Dobey was unable to give him any details other than he had received a message from Dr Brumley asking them to go to the centre.

Both speculated as to the reason for this sudden call and Hutch found himself wavering between the extremes of cautious hope and complete despair.

On arrival they were shown to Dr Brumley's office where she offered them both a drink. Hutch wanted to go straight to Starsky, it seemed so long since he had last seen him. However Dobey pinned him with a look that dared him to refuse, so he accepted the coffee as gracefully as he could.

Dr Brumley sat behind her desk and opened the file in front of her. Hutch felt his impatience growing as she reviewed everything he already knew, but he pasted an expression of polite attention on his face. However he sat up straighter as she came to details of Starsky's treatment and recovery.

"We are pleased with David's progress," she began. "We have stopped the sensory overload and he is now allowed more sleep and extra food. He is still in isolation but that is to help him feel safe and not because we feel he is a danger to anyone. He remains fixated on Charlie. We think that it was she who provided the softness after the harsh treatment meted out by her henchmen. He becomes upset if we try to tell him she was bad and his view of the police is still skewed. He needs gentleness to counteract the treatment we have given him so our nurse, Danny, has taken on that role."

Dobey sensed Hutch stiffening at that and spoke up before his detective could jump in. "With respect, doctor, I think that Starsky's friends are in a better position than your nurse to fulfil that role."

Dr Brumley surprised them both when she said "I agree with you in principle. I am, however, still concerned about his reaction to you, Detective Hutchinson."

Hutch was momentarily stunned. Despite himself he had had high hopes of this meeting and now the doctor was saying that he was hindering Starsky's recovery.

Then he rallied. "Doctor, I understand your reservations but Starsky and I are like brothers, closer than brothers. I'm sure I can help him if you give me the chance."

"Detective, I don't doubt that your heart is in the right place and you truly believe you can help your friend, but I don't think you are the right person to help him just now."

Hutch looked at her, an expression of unimaginable pain on his face. "Please just let me try," he whispered. "I'll do whatever you say if you'll just let me try."

She glanced at Dobey who nodded. "Ask anyone, doctor, and they'll tell you about their relationship. If anyone can bring Starsky back, it is Hutch."

The doctor turned to Hutch and stared at him as though weighing up his worth. "Very well," she said eventually. "But not today. I need you to understand your role in this process and what you can and cannot say or do."

Her look challenged him to argue so he swallowed down what he was about to say and nodded agreement. Dobey bit back a smile, certain that Hutch would instinctively know what Starsky needed and would do whatever it took to bring his friend back.


	12. Chapter 12

And so began the long process of bringing David Starsky back to his friends. Hutch wanted to move in permanently but Dr Brumley would not allow it. So he went to work in the mornings and visited with Starsky in the afternoon and evening.

Thankfully the 'reprogramming' appeared to be working and Starsky no longer displayed aggression towards Hutch, now just treating him as though he were invisible. For the first few days Starsky did not acknowledge Hutch's presence so Hutch just sat quietly reading, or rather pretending to read while watching his friend out of the corner of his eye. But one day he noticed that Starsky was also looking at him, although his eyes slid away when he realised Hutch had seen him.

Hutch was not normally a patient man, especially when his partner was in trouble, but Dr Brumley had stressed the importance of moving along at Starsky's pace, so he waited for some sign that his buddy was ready to take the next step.

That came just over a week after Hutch's visits began. Starsky was asleep when Hutch arrived so he sat in his usual place, preparing himself for more long hours of inactivity, thinking it was a bit like being on a stakeout. He wished he was in the 'tomato' playing some inane game with Starsky instead of this tedium.

Hutch was finding the round of work, visiting Starsky, home or Huggy's, and then bed surprisingly draining and his eyelids began to droop as he listened to Starsky's rhythmic breathing. He fought against the exhaustion but it was a losing battle and he soon fell asleep in the chair.

Not long after, Starsky awoke. He stretched luxuriously like a big cat, scratched his stomach and rolled over. He froze at the sight of Hutch in the chair but then, realising he was asleep, sat up and took the opportunity to examine the blond. Even in sleep he looked tense, lines around his eyes and mouth and a deep groove between his brows. His face looked pale and drawn, his hair dishevelled.

Starsky's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What is that cop doin' here day after day?" he wondered, clenching his fists unconsciously.

"He wants to help us," said his real self, trying to break through the barrier he had set up to protect himself.

"He's a cop," snapped his alter-ego. "He can't help us."

Some instinct told Hutch that Starsky was awake and he began to stir. Although his movements were imperceptible that same instinct told Starsky that Hutch was awakening. He quickly pushed back his real self and sat upright on the edge of his bed, silently watching.

Hutch's eyes fluttered open and he grimaced as he registered the awkward position he was in. As he stretched and groaned he realised that Starsky was observing him. He straightened and returned Starsky's gaze waiting for him to make the next move, as he had been instructed. Starsky's jaw worked as though he was going to speak but no sound came.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Why are you here?"

"Because I want to help you."

"Why?" Starsky's voice registered surprise.

"Because I'm your friend. Because you're _my_ friend."

Starsky looked puzzled at this. "You're not my friend. You're a cop."

"And so are you, buddy. We're the good guys, remember?" Hutch attempted a smile. It felt strange, as though he had not smiled for a long time.

Starsky ignored his comment. His eyes flitted around the room before coming back to rest on Hutch's face. "Where's Charlie?" he asked.

"Don't worry, Starsk. She can't hurt you any more."

Starsky's eyes glittered angrily. "Charlie never hurt me," he growled. "Charlie looked after me. _She's_ my friend, not you."

Hutch swallowed, internalising this hurt to worry over later when he was back home.

"Starsky, do you know who I am?"

Starsky eyed him insolently from head to feet and back again. "Sure I do. You're the cop who arrested me." A brief pause then he added grudgingly "You fight well...for a cop."

Hutch smiled sadly. "So do you, buddy."

Starsky stared at Hutch feeling irritation beginning to rise as Hutch refused to look away. It felt like the blond's eyes could see right inside of him and he worried that he would somehow see the small voice hidden within his mind. "Whatcha starin' at?" he groused.

"My friend," Hutch said softly. "I know he's in there somewhere. I know you don't believe me, Starsk, but we _are_ friends...best friends...and I'm _not_ gonna give up on you. You can push as much as you like but I won't be going anywhere. Not until you're better."

"I'm not sick. There's nothing wrong with me," Starsky protested. He was taken aback by the wave of sadness that swept over Hutch's face.

"Oh, Starsky. Can you honestly tell me this feels right...that what you have done feels right?"

Starsky opened his mouth to reply, then turned away from Hutch's knowing gaze and refused to engage in any further conversation although he had plenty to occupy his mind.

The rest of the day passed like any other, Hutch pretending to read and Starsky pretending Hutch wasn't there.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When Starsky awoke the next morning he lay for several minutes staring at the ceiling. Despite his ordeal, his sleep had only rarely been disturbed by nightmares. The previous night his dreams had been filled with images of the blond cop which skittered away when he tried to concentrate on them. What was it about this man that haunted him? He puffed out a breath in frustration as he levered himself upright. He felt as though a headache was brewing and decided a shower might help him feel better. He stripped off his pyjamas, made his way to the small bathroom attached to his room unconcerned by his nakedness, and stood under the torrent of hot water.

Wrapping a towel around his waist he appraised his reflection. Muscles rippled as he rubbed a smaller towel over his head. His hair was beginning to regrow and tight black curls covered his head. Bristles rasped as he dried his face. His face looked harder than he recalled and his blue eyes glared back at him with a disconcerting mixture of defiance and fear.

Starsky was beginning to tire of his enforced captivity though he still lacked the motivation or energy to do anything about it. His normally upbeat personality had been smothered by his treatment at Charlotte's hands and he was struggling to break free of the lethargy which overtook him.

Just as he returned to his sleeping area the door opened and the nurse, Danny, came in. The worry on his face was replaced by a smile when he saw Starsky. "Everything okay, David? I wondered where you were."

"Needed a shower," Starsky replied sulkily. "'S that a problem?" Suddenly he was tired of being treated like a child. "And I wanna shave."

Danny was surprised yet pleased at this small rebellion. It was the first time Starsky had shown any interest in anything on his own initiative. "Sure thing, David. Let me help you."

"My name is Dave or Starsky...and I wanna do it myself," Starsky said with a sudden flare of temper.

Danny left the room and a few minutes later returned with Dr Brumley. "Here you are, David," she said handing over a bag of toiletries.

"Call me Dave...or Starsky," he snapped, seizing the bag and stalking back to the bathroom.

"Just stay here and follow his normal routine," the doctor said quietly to Danny. "I think this is a breakthrough but we mustn't get too excited...there's still a way to go."

Starsky felt better after his shave and returned to find Danny waiting for him with breakfast. He eyed the oats and fruit juice with suspicion but realising there was nothing else, and acknowledging to himself that he was hungry, he sat down and got on with it.

"What would you like to do this morning, David...uh, Dave?" Danny asked when he had finished.

Starsky looked around the bland room as though searching for inspiration then shrugged. Danny sighed inwardly.

"Shall we stay here or go to the lounge?" he tried again. Starsky was once again unable to decide so Danny decided to stay in Starsky's room, as usual, and he tried to involve Starsky in some tidying up...as usual. He was pleasantly surprised when, for the first time, Starsky joined in.

However this burst of activity was short-lived and Starsky soon dropped onto his bed and fell into a light sleep. When he woke up he resumed his perusal of the ceiling. His eyes roamed back and forth as he counted the tiles and tried to decide what the stain on the ceiling reminded him of. "Australia," he thought with satisfaction. "Looks like Australia."

He was conscious of Danny sitting quietly in the corner but made no attempt to communicate with him. He lay still and tried to work out what felt different this morning. Normally he felt apathetic but today he had been more energised although the lassitude had taken him over again. It had felt good to take some control earlier but the responsibility scared him too.

His thoughts turned to the blond cop...Hutchinson? Yes, that was his name. Starsky couldn't understand why he arrived every day after lunch. He seemed to be under the impression that they meant something to each other, a misguided impression in Starsky's opinion. He also seemed to be weighed down by an aura of sadness which Starsky felt an inexplicable desire to lift. And yet he also felt animosity towards the man. This anomaly left him confused and anxious.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

When Hutch arrived later, Danny intercepted him before he could go to Starsky's room. "Dr Brumley would like to see you, Ken. Don't worry," he added quickly, seeing the alarm flare in Hutch's face. "She just wants to bring you up to date and discuss our next steps."

Hutch followed Danny to the doctor's office and sat down with some trepidation. "Don't look so worried, Ken. We've had a small breakthrough this morning. As you know David is very passive most of the time and needs guidance to make choices. This morning he showered by himself and demanded to shave. It may seem a small thing but this is a big step forwards for him."

"He also looked like he didn't want the breakfast but ate it because he felt he should," Danny added.

Hutch smiled. "Normally he'll just eat whatever is left over in his fridge. I've even known him to have cold pizza and root beer."

Dr Brumley shuddered and gave Hutch a look of horror. "Well, we shall definitely not be giving him that! Though I do think we should be offering him a choice. Danny, take care of that will you."

She turned to back Hutch. "Right, Ken. Let me tell you what I think.

"We are beginning to see that soldiers who have been brainwashed are recovering spontaneously. We're not really sure why but there are one or two theories floating around.

"Some of them were not brainwashed at all...they just played along with their captors to minimise the harsh treatment they had to endure.

"Others have recovered because they are no longer exposed to their captors or the mission. Without that reinforcement they have reverted to their normal behaviour.

"Now David's case is a bit more complex. Remember I told you that soldiers underwent training in techniques to counteract brainwashing? I think David tried to detach himself from what was happening to him and has locked away the part of himself that makes him the man he is...the man you knew. In effect his soul is locked inside his mind and can't, or won't come out. We need to find the key."

Hutch sat stunned for several seconds, trying to take in what the doctor was saying to him.

"So how do we get to him?" he asked finally.

"Trial and error..." Dr Brumley began. But Hutch leapt to his feet, leaning across the desk and jabbing his finger in her face.

"Now look here, lady. You've had my partner locked up in solitary confinement while you subject him to God knows what treatment and now you don't know what to do?"

Danny tried to restrain Hutch but the irate cop brushed him off like swatting a bug.

"It's fine, Danny. Don't worry," the doctor said, leaning back in her chair out of reach of the threatening finger. She spoke more firmly. "Ken, please sit down and listen to me."

Hutch eye-balled the doctor for several seconds then took a deep breath and dropped heavily into the chair. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled apologetically.

"We have been observing your visits and although it's not obvious we have seen some changes. He is watching you more and more and he spoke to you yesterday."

"Yeah. He wanted to know why I was visiting...like he couldn't understand why I would want to."

"You've been remarkably patient, Ken. I know this hasn't been easy for you but I'm coming to believe you really are the key to releasing David."

"Tell me something I don't know," Hutch thought sarcastically, but said aloud "What can I do, doc? I'll do anything to get Starsky back."

"Just continue visiting as you do now. I don't want to suddenly change David's routine as it is something he relies on. What I _do_ want is for you to be more pro-active. So initiate conversations, reminisce, bring in some photos...you know David best so just follow your instincts."


	13. Chapter 13

Starsky had finished his lunch what felt like ages ago and there was still no sign of Hutchinson...he was late. This change in his routine unsettled him and he felt his stomach flutter. Even though they had had no conversation until yesterday, Starsky found himself missing the blond presence in the corner. He did not like being alone with his thoughts for too long. They filled him with confusion and he became more agitated.

His conflicting feelings about the blond cop did not help his mental state. He decided to use Hutchinson's absence to try to rationalise his feelings and hopefully settle his churning emotions. Charlie had told him to kill the man...he's a cop and cops are bad.

"No," said his inner voice. "Charlie lied. This man is your friend."

He welcomed the anger he could feel smouldering within him. It helped him to ignore the annoying voice. He jumped up and began to pace the room taking angry strides, ten of them in each direction.

He spun around as the door opened. "What took you so long?" he snapped.

Hutch looked startled at the familiar greeting, although it was delivered in an unfamiliar tone. "Sorry, Starsk," he said softly. "Didn't know you were waiting for me."

Starsky glared at him. "I'm not," he said defensively. "Jus' wondered where you were, that's all."

"Nice to know you care, buddy." This earned him another hard stare to which he replied with a raised eyebrow. Inwardly Hutch was thrilled to see a more feisty Starsky but he wanted to maintain a calm exterior, recognising that if Starsky needed to vent it wouldn't help if he also blew up.

"So what are we gonna do this afternoon?"he asked. He saw the shutters begin to come down over Starsky's eyes and quickly said "Do you want to stay here again? We could just talk if you want?"

Starsky stared at him for a long moment. "I don't know what I want," he whispered.

Hutch struggled to maintain his composure. Smiling sadly he said gently "Lets stay here as usual and we'll think of something we can do tomorrow. That okay with you?"

Starsky nodded uncertainly.

"C'mon, Starsk. Come and sit down and I'll get us some coffee." Without thinking he moved to take Starsky's arm to guide him to his seat but Starsky pulled away with a growl and Hutch backed off.

Starsky stumbled to the chair where Hutch normally sat and sank into it, closing his eyes with a sigh, as though his mental struggle was draining him physically.

Hutch watched him worriedly, then left the room and went to the observation room

"What's happening?" he demanded. "Why is he like this?"

"It's hard to say..." Dr Brumley began. But Hutch cut her off angrily.

"You don't know, do you? Do you people have _any_ idea what you are doing? You act like God..."

It was Dr Brumley's turn to interrupt. "Detective Hutchinson! If you continue in this manner I will have you removed and you will not be permitted to see David! This behaviour will not help him!"

Her sharp tone brought Hutch's tirade up short. He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry, doctor. It's just...I...I'm just finding this harder than I'd expected."

Dr Brumley smiled, her own irritation gone as though it had never been. "I know. That's understandable but David is making really good progress, Ken. Think back to how he was when he first came here and look at him now. The human mind is very complex. I think David is beginning to come back to himself but he doesn't know the way. He's frightened and confused. Just follow your instincts, Ken...you're his best shot."

Hutch sighed heavily. "I hope my best is good enough."

He made two coffees and Danny found some cookies. Hutch returned to Starsky's room only to find his friend asleep in the chair. He debated wakening him but decided against it. He perched on the edge of the bed to drink his coffee and tried to formulate a plan to end the nightmare in which they found themselves.

When Starsky awoke Hutch was discouraged to see he had reverted to silence and sideways glances. He tried to start conversations but got no response and eventually gave up, having tired of hearing his own voice. When Danny brought in Starsky's evening meal Hutch said his 'good nights' and left.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Hutch walked slowly to his car. He decided he needed company tonight but had to force himself to concentrate as he drove to Huggy's. He felt drained both mentally and physically.

He parked in the back alley as usual and made his way with heavy steps into the bar. He ordered a beer from Diane then took it to in his regular booth which was once again free, as though an invisible reserved sign hung over it.

Huggy materialised by his side. "Hutch, my man. What'll it be?"

Hutch placed his order and in no time Huggy reappeared bearing a laden plate and another beer for his friend. He eyed Hutch with concern. "How are you, my blond brother?"

Hutch glanced up from his meal. "I'm fine, Hug."

"Ya don't look fine from this side of the table," Huggy said candidly, taking in Hutch's careworn appearance.

"Just leave it, Huggy. I'm not in the mood," Hutch said sharply around a mouthful of pasta. He put down his fork and swallowed. "Sorry, Hug."

Huggy put a hand on Hutch's arm and sank onto the seat beside him. "'S okay, man. How _is_ our curly friend?"

Hutch took a large gulp of his beer then resumed eating while he pondered the question.

"I dunno, Hug," Hutch said eventually. "I thought we were getting somewhere but now it feels like we're back where we started. And now they want me to take the lead...after pushing me into the background all this time."

"Hey that's good, man. No one knows Starsky like you do."

"Yeah," Hutch said slowly, uncertainty clouding his words. "But what if I say or do the wrong thing?"

"Not gonna happen. I know you guys and there's no way you won't work this out."

Hutch smiled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Hug. I'm going to his apartment later to pick up some of his stuff...you know, familiar things to jog his memory. Hey! Can you do me a couple of specials tomorrow lunch time? I'll pick them up on my way to see Starsky."

"You got it, Hutch. Anything else I can do?"

"I'll let you know." Hutch heaved himself up wearily and got ready to leave.

"Take care, Blondie."

"I will, Hug." Hutch rested a hand lightly on Huggy's shoulder, then gave it a quick squeeze. "And thank you."

Hutch drove to Starsky's apartment and used his key to let himself in. He watered the plants then looked around for something to take with him to the secure unit. He didn't want to bombard Starsky with stimuli yet wanted to choose something significant. He scooped up a photograph album and added the Monopoly set then, with a last look round, locked up and made his way home.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The following day Hutch drove to work where he spent the morning on desk duty, as he had done for the bulk of the time since Starsky's disappearance. He, White and Hogan had worked hard and built up a good case against Charlotte, who remained in jail despite her lawyer's best efforts and her own vociferous claims of innocence. The DA was hopeful that they would soon be able to set a date for her trial. He was also able to tell Hutch that charges would not be brought against Starsky. Although he had attacked and killed Charlotte's victims, the evidence showed that he was also a victim and a statement from Dr Brumley confirmed that Starsky had had no control over his actions and was therefore not responsible.

It was with a lighter heart that Hutch headed for Huggy's where he picked up the lunch bag his friend had prepared for him. He turned the radio dial to a music station and found himself singing along as he drove to the secure unit.

After parking up, he grabbed the bag of food, the album and the game and strode down the long corridor to Starsky's room.

"Hi, Danny. How is Starsky today?"

Danny looked up with a smile. "Hello, Ken. Much the same as yesterday...and he's all yours."

Hutch grinned. "Gee thanks, Danny. Hear that, Starsk? You're all mine...you lucky guy."

Starsky did not look up, seeming to find fascination in his finger nails. Hutch smothered a sigh, and briefly closed his eyes, hoping he had the patience to get through the afternoon without losing his temper.

"You hungry, Starsk? I've got you a surprise."

Starsky pretended he was not interested but his eyes flicked to Hutch, to the bag and then back to his hands. Hutch caught the small movement and smiled to himself.

"I called round at Huggy's on my way here and picked up some lunch for you." Hutch rooted through the bag to find Huggy had added fries, pots of sauce, mustard and dressing, and a container of salad plus a pack of root beer. "Hey, good ol' Huggy. He's put in both our favourites."

He glanced at Starsky, noticing how he was carefully watching Hutch's movements as he set his offerings on the table. "Huggy keeps asking after you. He wants to know when he's gonna see your ugly mug again."

Starsky sidled over to the table. Although he had already eaten, the food Hutch had brought did look very tempting and he was sure it would taste a whole lot better than the food on offer at the centre. Hutch smiled and pushed a drink across the table.

"There ya go, Starsk. Enjoy."

And Starsky did enjoy. It seemed to him it was the best meal he'd had in a long time.

He looked at his companion feeling ridiculously shy. "Thank you, Mr...uh...Hutchinson."

Hutch could feel the colour draining from his face and was glad he was sitting down. "K..Ken. C...c...call me Ken," he stuttered. For some reason he couldn't explain to himself, he didn't want this strange Starsky calling him 'Hutch'.

"Ken," Starsky repeated. That didn't feel right somehow, but if it was what the man wanted...


	14. Chapter 14

Ten days later Hutch was once again at Huggy's for lunch. He sat at the bar while Huggy looked after his other customers, the two friends talking quietly.

"He's taking such little steps. I sometimes think he's not making any progress at all. Some days he never speaks at all."

Huggy looked shocked. "Starsky? Not talking?"

Hutch smiled. "Yeah, I know." He paused while he gathered his thoughts. "And now they say I can take him out tomorrow."

"Hey, that's good, man...isn't it?"

"I dunno, Hug...yeah, it is good. We've wandered around the unit a bit and been outside but...I'm not sure if he's ready for an outing."

Huggy snorted a laugh. "C'mon, Hutch. This is what you've been wantin' and now you've changed your mind? They wouldn't suggest it if he's not ready."

Hutch ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, I guess so. Hey, you wanna meet us at his place at about five?" Huggy readily agreed, eager to see his old friend again.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The afternoon passed much the same as all the previous ones and Hutch was finding it increasingly difficult to remain upbeat in the face of Starsky's indifference and occasional hostility.

Dr Brumley and Danny seemed encouraged by Starsky's progress but Hutch wasn't seeing much evidence of improvement. He supposed he had naively hoped that being together would remind Starsky of his previous life and he would miraculously recover. He was worried that he was not feeling the familiar connection to his partner on which he relied so much and it saddened him that Starsky apparently couldn't feel their bond either.

Scrabble and a chess set had followed the Monopoly to Starsky's room but he seemed to have little enthusiasm for the games, preferring to look at the photo albums or do nothing at all, other than brood.

Hutch kept giving him small choices but Starsky stubbornly refused to cooperate, watching Hutch's reaction with a glint in his eye. Hutch refused to take the bait but could feel his irritation rising.

Truth to tell he was nervous about the following day's outing, but he kept that to himself.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The following day dawned cloudy but dry with a hint of autumn in the air. After leaving headquarters, Hutch drove to the unit and made his way to Starsky's room.

"Are you ready, buddy?" Hutch looked carefully at his friend, noting the ill-concealed tension as he perched on the edge of the bed. Starsky gave a curt nod and stood up. "I thought we'd have a quiet drive, maybe go to the beach? Huggy's gonna meet us at your apartment later. That sound okay?" Starsky merely shrugged.

Hutch attempted to inject some jollity into his voice to hide his uncertainty. "C'mon, Starsk. Grab your jacket and lets go."

He hustled Starsky down the corridor to the reception desk where Danny was waiting. Danny looked at Hutch. "You okay, Ken?" At Hutch's nod he turned to Starsky. "Enjoy your afternoon, David."

As they neared the door Danny couldn't resist calling "Hey, Ken...don't lose him!"

Hutch gave a hollow laugh. That was only one of his concerns about the afternoon.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Starsky eyed Hutch's car but uncharacteristically made no comment. Hutch slid into the driver's seat and turned the key. Thankfully his temperamental car started first time, with only a small cough. As is the nature of inanimate objects, it would normally behave itself for Hutch but seemed to take pleasure in embarrassing him in front of Starsky. But not today. "Even the car can't feel him," Hutch thought morosely.

As Hutch pulled away he glanced at his silent passenger. He searched for something to say, aware that conversation between them was not normally a problem. He opened his mouth to break the silence but Starsky jumped in first, hiding his own nervousness behind an aggressive tone.

"Shut up, Hutchinson. Jus' let me enjoy the journey. Where we goin' anyway?"

"Uh...I thought we'd just drive round our beat a bit and maybe go to the beach?"

Starsky grunted a reply which Hutch took to be agreement.

They drove aimlessly for nearly an hour, Hutch subconsciously driving up and down as though they were on a normal patrol, even scanning the sidewalks for potential trouble. He could almost pretend it _was_ a routine patrol.

Starsky looked out of the window enjoying the freedom, although nervous of all that entailed. Over the days and weeks he was coming to see that the blond cop _was_ one of the good guys and acknowledged the possibility that Charlie had lied to him, but he couldn't understand why the man seemed to be spending all his spare time with him.

"I'm not worth it," Starsky thought. "I tried to kill him. I should be in a cell."

"Let him in," came the little voice. "He's your friend. Please let him in."

He shook his head to quiet the voice which was gradually becoming more insistent.

"You all right, Starsk? Headache?" came a concerned voice from his left. "Maybe I should take you back."

"Don't wanna go back!" he said with a vehemence that surprised him as much as it did Hutch.

"Okaaay," said Hutch uncertainly, drawing out the word. "Let's go to the beach for a bit, hmm?"

Starsky glanced at him quickly then away again. "Um yeah, if you want to," he mumbled.

"This isn't about what _I_ want, Starsky, this is about _you_!" Hutch flared up and just as quickly doused his anger with a hefty sigh. "Sorry, Starsk. Do you wanna go to the beach or go home?"

Starsky was silent for so long Hutch was beginning to think this was yet another either/or question he wasn't going to answer.

"I think I wanna go home," he said at last.

Hutch smiled and turned the car towards Starsky's apartment. Fifteen minutes later he pulled up behind the Torino.

"My car," whispered Starsky, getting out of Hutch's car and walking slowly towards his own. He walked all around the Torino touching the paintwork tentatively as though afraid the car was a mirage.

Hutch watched with an indulgent smile on his face. "Hey, it's real, buddy. It's not gonna disappear. Let's go inside and see what else you remember."

He led the way to the door, trusting Starsky would follow him. "My key! I ain't got my key!"

"Hey, it's okay. I've got mine," Hutch said quickly, pulling it from his pocket. Seeing Starsky's suspicious look he added "You've got a key for _my_ place too."

Hutch opened the door and held it for Starsky to enter, resisting the urge to touch his friend as he normally would, in the certainty that Starsky would not tolerate it. He was beginning to realise just how much he missed the little pats and touches that had always been an inherent part of their relationship. He went to the kitchen and filled the kettle leaving Starsky to reacquaint himself with his apartment.

Starsky prowled around, touching some of his favourite knick-knacks and checking his plants. He turned round to see Hutch leaning against the door frame, arms folded across his chest, observing him. "Was it you watered my plants?" he asked.

"Yeah and talked to them too. Told 'em you'd be back soon to sing to them."

"Sing?" Starsky queried, his voice rising to a squeak at the end of the word.

"Yeah...sing."

"I don't sing," Starsky groused.

"Hmm. Think the plants might agree with you," Hutch grinned.

Starsky gave him a quick look as though uncertain how to respond, then gave a small smile.

Hutch swallowed his disappointment that Starsky did not fall into their familiar bantering. "I've made some coffee, you want one?" he asked.

"Um yeah, I think I do...thanks." Starsky followed Hutch to the kitchen, retrieved a cup and returned to sit on the couch.

Hutch followed more slowly, debating whether to join Starsky on the couch and then decided to sit on the chair. He took a breath and began to speak.

"Starsky, I wish I could help you. I wish you'd let me in. What can I do? Please tell me..."

Starsky took a sip of his coffee while Hutch was speaking, then put the cup down carefully.

"Why?" he said. "I don't understand. I'm not worth it. Why d'you want to help me?" Starsky's voice began to rise and he jumped up in agitation.

Hutch rose slowly, feeling out of his depth. Under normal circumstances he would know exactly how to help Starsky but this was totally out of his experience. He did not know what to say or do for the best. He'd been told to follow his instincts but was scared they would lead him wrong and he would do more harm than good. He began to stretch out a hand but Starsky wheeled around and headed for the bedroom.

"Where are you going, Starsk? Please talk to me. We can sort this out if we work together."

Starsky expression grew dark and he backed away. "Leave me alone," he growled. "I need to be alone."

"You can't do this by yourself, Starsky. Please..."

Starsky slammed the bedroom door, cutting Hutch off.

He threw himself onto the bed and lay on his back, his whole body wracked by tremors which he fought to bring under control.

The small voice inside his head was becoming more and more insistent as it began to dismantle the walls it had built to hide behind.

"Let me out, let him in, let me out, let him in, let me out, let him in..." it intoned over and over. Starsky was beginning to think he was going mad.

"I've got to get out of here," he thought. "I've got to get away from him."

"No," came the voice again. "Trust him."

"I can't," he whispered. "I can't trust anyone. I need to get out of here."

Starsky jumped off the bed, crossed the room in four quick strides and wrenched open the door, taking Hutch by surprise. Starsky was out the front door almost before Hutch could react.

Hutch raced after him as Starsky ran down the steps and began to sprint up the road.

"Starsky! Stop!" Hutch shouted, beginning to pursue his wayward partner. His longer legs began to close the distance between them. As he drew nearer, a quick glance to his right showed a car bearing down on Starsky and he realised his friend was oblivious to its presence in his headlong dash.

With a frantic shout of "Starsky!" he threw himself forward and shoved Starsky out of the car's path.

Starsky staggered and fell to his hands and knees. Turning angrily, he was just in time to see the car strike Hutch, spinning him around to fall motionless to the ground as the car driver stamped on the brakes.


	15. Chapter 15

"Huuuuutch!"

Starsky scrambled to his feet and ran to Hutch's side, nearly sprawling on his face in his haste. Hutch lay in the road, unmoving. Starsky reached out a trembling hand. "Oh, Hutch," he whispered. "What d'you have to do that for?"

The car driver walked towards them on unsteady legs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. He came out of nowhere. I'm so sorry..."

Starsky held up a hand to halt the man's babbling. "'S not your fault. 'S all _my_ fault. Jus'...jus' call an ambulance will ya."

The driver looked close to tears but he trotted to the nearest house and knocked on the door.

Starsky touched Hutch's cheek lightly as he gently supported his head. "Hutch! Hutch! Can ya hear me? C'mon, buddy. Let me see those baby blues...please, Hutch." He tried to do a quick inventory of Hutch's injuries but his eyes kept being drawn to the blood seeping from a cut on his head and one on his arm. He fumbled with his shirt, thinking of using the material as a make-shift bandage.

"Oh, Hutch," he said shakily. "You gotta wake up...please"

The car driver returned, followed by the resident who passed a blanket to Starsky. He thanked her and gently covered Hutch's inert form.

"The ambulance is on the way," she said. "I'm sure they won't be long. Are _you_ okay?"

"I'm fine...fine." Starsky waved her away impatiently, not meaning to be rude, just totally focused on Hutch.

"C'mon, Hutch. You need to wake up now. Please, buddy." Starsky could feel tears prickling his eyes and he blinked furiously, determined not to cry. For the first time in a long time he was feeling something other than lost, lonely or angry but there was no way he was going to give in to his emotions while Hutch needed him to be strong.

Hutch had come back into his life but he had fought against the subconscious feelings Hutch's presence engendered, preferring to keep that small essence of himself hidden away where it felt safe. The shock of Hutch's accident had destroyed the fortress in Starsky's mind and that small voice had joyfully burst forth and made Starsky whole again. But at what cost? Hutch had saved his life, again, and now he lay in the road unconscious.

"Oh, Hutch. I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Starsky wanted to hold Hutch close but was scared to do so in case he made his injuries worse, so he contented himself with holding Hutch's hand. He cradled his face with his other hand, rubbing a trembling thumb back and forth along Hutch's cheekbone. To his relief he heard the sound of approaching sirens. A black-and-white arrived first and two patrolmen got out. One approached Starsky while the other went to talk to the small group of onlookers which had materialised, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Detective Starsky! What are _you_ doing here?" the young officer exclaimed. Then looking more closely, he added "Detective Hutchinson?"

Crouching down on his haunches he looked at the blond detective with concern, then looked up at Starsky. "What happened, sir?"

Before Starsky could reply, an ambulance pulled up behind the cruiser and two paramedics appeared at Starsky's side. One was a well-built black man, who looked much as Captain Dobey must have done as a young man. The other was a slim girl with her brown hair cut in a short, elfin style.

"Excuse me, sir. You need to move away then we can help him," the man said.

Starsky did not want to relinquish his hold on Hutch. "Come on, sir. Let us help him."

Gently they prised Starsky away from his partner and the woman began to examine Hutch.

"Okay, sir. My name is Leroy and this is my partner, Sara. Can you tell me what happened?"

Starsky looked beyond Leroy as though watching the accident play out on a screen. He let out a shaky breath. "I nearly got run over and he pushed me outa the way. The car hit him instead."

"Okay, sir. Do you know his name?"

Starsky looked down at his partner and swallowed hard. "Yeah, it's Hutch...uh...Hutchinson, Ken Hutchinson."

Sara looked up to her partner. "Pupils equal and reactive, resps and BP both fine. Query spinal injury. Lacerations to head and right arm."

"Okay, Sara. Get the backboard and C-Collar and we'll get him off to hospital." Leroy turned back to Starsky. "How long has he been unconscious?"

Starsky did not respond at first. He stared at Hutch, the mention of a spinal injury filling him with dread. Leroy touched him on the arm making Starsky jump violently. "Has he been out long?"

"No more than ten minutes," the car driver replied. "You got here really quickly."

Sara returned to Hutch's side. "Hello, Ken," she said gently. "My name is Sara and my partner is Leroy. You've had a nasty accident so we're going to take you to hospital for a check up." As she spoke, the collar was eased around Hutch's neck to prevent him moving his head. "Can you hear me, Ken?"

She was rewarded by a small groan.

"That's good, Ken. Now we're going to put you on a board, strap you in and we'll be on our way."

Leroy slid the backboard into position and they carefully rolled Hutch into position and strapped him down.

"You're doing really well, Ken," said Leroy. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Hutch groaned again and his eyelids fluttered.

"That's really good, Ken. A little more?" Leroy encouraged.

Hutch's eyelids flickered a few more times then his eyes opened. He blinked several times trying to look around. Starsky had been watching helplessly, feeling his guilt beginning to grow. He saw the growing panic on Hutch's face and moved swiftly to his side, grabbing a hold of his hand.

"Keep still, Hutch. You're okay, you're okay. You had an accident, remember? You need to keep still, buddy."

Hutch quieted at Starsky's words and locked eyes with his partner. "St...Starsk?"

Starsky swallowed, fighting to maintain his composure. "Yeah, it's me, buddy," he whispered, rubbing his thumb over the back of Hutch's hand. The look of pure joy on Hutch's face was nearly his undoing.

"We need to go," said Sara. And allowing no time for argument, she and Leroy settled Hutch in the back of the ambulance. Starsky jumped in and Leroy drove to the hospital where a medical team awaited their arrival.


	16. Chapter 16

Hutch stood by the window overlooking the parking lot. The doctors had discharged him and he was waiting for a lift home. He drummed his fingers impatiently, wishing he would see Starsky's Torino pull in, but knowing it was not to be.

He was struggling to understand what was going on with his friend. When he first came round after the accident, he had been delighted to see Starsky's worried face and hear the concern in his voice. But Starsky had gradually withdrawn into himself as it became clear that Hutch had escaped with nothing worse than bruising, a large egg on his head and the concussion that went with it, plus a cut on his head that was hidden by a dressing and a cut on his arm that required stitches and a sling.

Starsky had once again become the stranger who would not meet his eyes and Hutch had been dismayed to wake up the day after the accident to find Starsky was not in his accustomed place, in the chair by his bedside. In fact he had returned, voluntarily, to the secure unit.

"Feeling guilty I guess," Hutch thought. "We'll have to do something about that, pal."

He saw Huggy's car pull into the parking lot and readied himself to leave. His discharge papers were already signed so there were no hold-ups other than stopping off to collect his pain medication.

"Sorry, Hutch. I need to call at the bar. I got a delivery comin'," Huggy said as he pulled out onto the road. "Shouldn't take long and then I'll take ya home."

"Just take me home now, Hug...I'll be fine." Huggy looked like he was going to argue but Hutch cut him off. "Honest, Hug. I'll be fine. I just wanna go home. I'd rather be in my own place, you know?" He turned blue eyes on his friend and Huggy knew when he was beaten. Shaking his head and grumbling good-naturedly, he turned his car towards Venice Place.

After making sure Hutch really was all right, he headed off, promising to return as soon as he could.

Hutch discarded his sling and tossed it onto a chair as soon as Huggy left. He kicked off his shoes and ambled into the kitchen, smiling when he saw his fridge was well-stocked with provisions. He grabbed a carton of juice, poured some awkwardly with his left hand and then sat on the sofa to wrestle with the bottle of pills.

Picking up the phone he rang Edith Dobey, knowing she would be the one responsible for his well-stocked cupboards. She extracted from him a promise that he and Starsky would call round for a meal in the not too distant future. After hanging up he eyed the phone, debating whether to wait for Huggy or call a cab to take him to the secure unit. Deciding that Huggy might try to talk him out of visiting so soon after his discharge, he called a cab first and then his friend to prevent him returning to Venice Place.

As expected Huggy tried to dissuade him but knew it was pointless to try to change the stubborn blond's mind. "All right, my friend. But call me if you need me."

Hutch pushed his feet back into his shoes, shrugged into his jacket with difficulty and went downstairs to wait for the cab.

During the journey his mind ran through various scenarios, most ending with he and Starsky best friends once again but one or two disconcertingly ending with them estranged for ever.

Unsure of his partner's state of mind and knowing how stubborn he could be, it was with some trepidation that Hutch paid for the ride and entered the centre.

Danny was standing at the reception desk. He looked up and smiled when he saw Hutch. "Ken! How are you?" he asked, beginning to walk down the corridor with him.

"Better than I look, thanks," Hutch replied. "How's Starsky?"

"Very withdrawn. I think your accident gave him quite a shock."

Hutch looked disappointed. "He seemed better when I came round...more his usual self, you know?"

"He does seem different..." Danny mused. "Less hard...uh...unnerved...scared."

"Scared? That's not the Starsky I know."

"Well, Dr Brumley is convinced that you're the key, and maybe your accident is the catalyst he needed to break free. Just be patient a little longer, Ken."

They arrived at Starsky's door and Hutch took a steadying breath before entering.

Starsky was sitting at the small table staring at some cards set out for solitaire. He did not acknowledge his presence giving Hutch an opportunity to observe his friend. He looked fit and healthy but his expression showed that his thoughts were not in a happy place.

Hutch sat on the other side of the table and moved one of the cards onto another stack.

"Hey!" Starsky growled, slapping the back of Hutch's hand.

"Thought you were stuck, buddy," Hutch smiled. "Red six on black seven and now you've got a black five..."

"Stop it, Hutch. I'm not in the mood."

"Well at least you're calling me 'Hutch' now. Sounds so much better than 'Mr Hutchinson'."

Starsky winced. "Jus' leave it, Hutch."

"I can't, Starsk. You're the best friend I've ever had and I'm not about to give up on that."

Starsky stood and walked away from the table. "I think you should. I'm not a friend to you any more."

"So you're not my friend any more? I'm still _your_ friend...always will be."

Starsky spun around angrily. "Oh c'mon, Hutch! How can we be friends after what I did to you?"

"What did you do, buddy?" Hutch asked softly, sensing that he was near a breakthrough.

Starsky glanced at Hutch but his eyes slid away, unable to bear the expectation on Hutch's face. "You know what I tried to do," he mumbled. "And what kind of friend does that make me, huh?"

"You weren't yourself, buddy. You didn't know what you were doing."

"That's no excuse!" Starsky shouted. "I shoulda been stronger, I shoulda stopped her, I shoulda...I...I...I shoulda _done_ somethin'!"

"You did the best you could, Starsk. No one could ask more than that. You protected yourself the only way you could. I just wish I'd found you sooner...I should've found you sooner. I tried so hard, Starsk, but I couldn't find you." Hutch's voice cracked with emotion.

"Hutch! Stop it now! No guilt trips, huh? You _did_ find me"

Hutch smiled. "That works both ways, Starsk...no guilt trips, buddy."

Starsky turned away. "Not that simple, Hutch. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for what I've done."

"Starsky, you're a victim too. I know you don't want to think of yourself that way but you are."

Starsky shook his head angrily. "Stop this, Hutch. Stop tryin' to make me feel better. I killed those other men and I tried to kill you..."

Starsky suddenly stopped and drew in a sharp intake of breath. "Oh my God...I tried to kill you..."

It was as if saying the words aloud forced Starsky to confront what he had done and the enormity of it hit him hard. Turning pale he raced to the bathroom and Hutch could hear him vomiting. He followed slowly, knowing Starsky hated to be observed being sick. Waiting until the retching had ceased, he entered the bathroom. Starsky was slumped on the floor, arms across the pan and head resting on his arms.

Hutch grabbed a cloth, wet it and crouching beside his partner, began to wipe his face and the back of his neck while murmuring soothing nonsense.

Starsky feebly tried to push him away. His face was waxen and pale, and tears trembled on his lashes. "Hutch. Please stop it. Jus' leave me alone."

"Sorry, buddy. Can't do that. I can't leave you in this state."

"How can you bear to be near me...to touch me, after what I did to ya?" Starsky's voice was full of anguish and Hutch felt his own eyes filling.

"'Cause I love ya, mushbrain." Hutch's voice was warm with affection as he reached for Starsky, stifling a hiss of pain as the movement pulled at the stitches in his arm.

Starsky resisted at first but Hutch's hold was firm yet gentle. He allowed himself to be enfolded against Hutch's chest. It felt like coming home. Hutch's heart beat steadily in his ear and he gave a shivery sigh as the silent tears began to fall.

Hutch closed his eyes in relief as he felt the sobs shake his partner, knowing that 'his' Starsky was finally back.


	17. Chapter 17

Epilogue

Huggy Bear stood behind the bar, drying some glasses and stacking them carefully. He looked up as the door opened and smiled broadly as Starsky and Hutch entered. Both were laughing as they approached the bar.

"Good evening, gents. What's your pleasure?"

"Two of your finest please, Hug," said Hutch.

"And two specials with everything," added Starsky. "And I mean everything." He jabbed a thumb in Hutch's direction. "He's paying."

Hutch rolled his eyes but got out his wallet obligingly.

"What happened, Hutch? Lose another bet? Ya shoulda learned by now."

Hutch shook his head. "No, Hug. This is a meal he's been waiting eight months to collect."

Huggy's eyes widened comically. "Ya made him wait eight months! Man, I'd better go make sure it's worth the wait."

He passed the beers over and went to the kitchen to supervise the food.

Starsky and Hutch made their way to their regular booth, sliding in side by side so they could observe the comings and goings in the crowded bar.

Huggy soon materialised with their food order and more beer.

"Wanna join us, Hug?" Starsky asked.

"You know I'd love to, guys, but this place is jumping tonight. Some other time, huh?"

Huggy went back behind the bar where a steady stream of customers kept him busy. He kept glancing across to his two friends, happy to see they were once again easy in each other's company.

Starsky made his way over to the bar. "Two more beers please, Hug."

"Coming right up." Huggy paused then glanced up from the tap. "How're ya doin' Starsk?"

Starsky looked down, slightly embarrassed, and smiled gently. "I'm doin' good, Huggy...thanks to Hutch." He looked towards the pool table where Hutch was busily setting up the balls for a game. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. "Uh, Huggy...I wanna thank ya for bein' there for him while I was...uh...gone."

Huggy put up a hand. "Stop right there, Starsky. You and Hutch are my brothers, ya dig? It ain't always good for my health to admit to knowin' you guys but just remember I'm always here...for both of you."

Brown eyes met blue as Huggy placed the glasses on the counter. Starsky gave a small nod. Reaching for the glasses, and with a twinkle in his eye, he said "Put 'em on Hutch's tab will ya."

Then, as Huggy shook his head and laughed, Starsky made his way back to the man who had never given up on him, even when he had given up on himself.


End file.
